


A Whole New World

by brunetta6



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: ....sorta, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Evil Tony Stark, Fluff and Smut, Good Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, cuz-tony-stark, definitely not a slow burn, rp fic, stilldebatable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-01-14 20:42:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 57,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18483988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brunetta6/pseuds/brunetta6
Summary: In a world where Tony Stark became the villain, the remnants of SHIELD decide that the only person who can possibly take him down... is himself.





	1. A Whole New World

**Author's Note:**

> So... my Tumblr rp buddy (@stilldebatable) and I finished this thread about a year ago. It's super angsty and smutty and full of hurt comfort and I hope you enjoy it. I hope reading it makes you cry just as much as we did writing it. <3

Getting pulled into another reality was akin to opening a bottle of wine.  Only Tony was the cork. There was a lot of pain, a lot of pressure, and suddenly a sucking sound as time and space twisted and broke and…

_Popped._

Tony hit the rocky floor of an echoing cavern, the roar of a machine screaming against the walls.  His brain felt like it had been scattered against the inside of his skull, his head spinning nauseatingly and his chestpiece on the fritz, his heart stuttering under the flickering arc-reactor until it finally glowed calmly.  His heart was still pounding, but at least cardiac arrest wasn’t in his near future.

Well, he had thought so, until a sudden sound made him look up into the barrels of about twenty long-barreled guns.  He winced as his head pounded, warily looking at the people around him. He thought he knew these people. But somehow, they weren’t them.  A few Tony almost recognized – like people he had passed in the hallway at SHIELD – but there were two men that he would know in any reality.  

Steve Rogers and Nick Fury looked down at him, three narrowed eyes between the two of them.  Nick was a little dusty, like everyone else; otherwise he didn’t look much different. Steve, however…

Steve sported a beard, long dirty blonde hair that he could’ve almost pulled into a ponytail, a haunted, wary look in his eyes… and his left arm, his shield-bearing arm, was missing from the mid-bicep down.

Steve tore his eyes off of Tony, glancing hollowly at the technicians.  “Did Ultron detect us?”

“No way to know for sure, sir.”

“Start shutting the machine down, then,” Steve murmured.  He looked back at Tony, then down at the cave floor, almost self-consciously.

Nick stepped forward, a brow raised critically down at Tony as he gave him a once over.  “Well, there isn’t a death beam coming down from the sky yet. I’ll call that a win,” he commented to the air.  The director of SHIELD waved off the gunbearers exasperatedly. “Give the man some air, wouldja?”

Nick offered Tony a hand up.  “Hey. You must have a lot of questions.  We can answer all of them.”

“Where the hell am I?” Tony rasped, getting up without taking Fury’s hand.  He hunched in on himself with another wince. _God_ he was in pain.  He felt like he had been hit by a truck.

“SHIELD Headquarters. The year is 2022, in what you’re gonna see as an alternate reality. Relax, Stark, you’re gonna make yourself sick,” Fury informed him calmly.  He waved the nervous technicians to continue with their work. Behind them, the mechanical beast slowly powered down, leaving the cave in silence.

Meanwhile, his answer only made Tony’s head spin more.  “I really need to stop drinking,” Tony muttered, wishing he could attribute this to a drunken hallucination.  But he knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. _Alternate reality._  It was an idea he had dabbled in but he had never even attempted to ascertain if there really was such a thing.  Apparently there was.

He straightened up a little, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing his forehead before cracking open his eyes once more to take in his surroundings a bit better.  At least the room had stopped moving. Or cave. A chill ran down his spine. He _hated_ caves.  “Why am I here?” he finally demanded.

“Why does anyone bring you anywhere?” Fury asked ironically, fishing into his coat for a file. “We need your help. Once we get that help, sending you back where you came from should be easy.”

He glanced down at Tony’s chest, making a slight face at the sight of the arc reactor. “Hmm. Still got that outdated thing, huh?”

“That’s not exactly promising,” Steve commented quietly.

Fury eyeballed the super soldier. “He’s sure as hell better than nothin’, Cap.”

He turned back to Tony, opening up the folder as he looked over the contents. “So, before we get started, what year are you from and how much do you know about the AI Ultron?”

“Ultron?” Tony repeated, his brows shooting up.  “We took him out over a year ago. It’s 2016,” he answered quickly, blinking as he tried to process everything.  They were six years ahead, but Ultron was still around. How everyone wasn’t dead already was beyond him.

“Why are you bringing me into this?  Where is your Tony?” Tony snapped agitatedly.  

His expression fell as he considered the implications.  “Did Ultron kill him?” he asked quietly.

Nick smirked humorlessly. “Not exactly.”

He closed the file and tucked it under his arm. “Stark is quite a story, and it’s a story that quite a few people aren’t sure if you’re ready to hear. All you need to know right now is that Ultron has become the ultimate armor and weapon of Planet Earth, an omniscient, learning, peacekeeping robot, and it’s been active for the past decade. Exactly what it was designed to be, as I understand it. Unfortunately, that’s also the reason why we need to shut it down. The way we see it, you’re the one to help us. Stark -- _our_ Stark -- wouldn’t exactly be keen on destroying his greatest creation.”

Tony sucked in a deep breath through his nose.  “And what if I can’t? I had a team before,” he asked, glancing at Steve a little skeptically.  He had a feeling that even though they needed him, they wanted nothing to do with him. What had his counterpart _become?_

“You had a team?” Fury repeated, raising a brow.

He looked back at Steve, pointing at Tony. “Look what alternate reality the Avengers Initiative actually worked out in!”

Steve shrugged at him, still keeping his eyes down. Meanwhile, Fury turned back to the billionaire. “I presume the Avengers didn’t help you hack and invent, did they?” he asked. “We’re not asking you to kill the other you. We have someone lined up for that, should it become necessary. What we need you to do is shut down Ultron remotely from Stark’s core lab in Wakanda. You already have his DNA. We just need to get that antique out of your chest, give you a few more grey hairs, and viola. You’ll be back in your reality in less than a month.”

Tony’s jaw clenched and he paled slightly at the mention of the other him being killed.  It was unnerving to hear your death being talked about so flippantly, even if it technically wasn’t his.  

“Wakanda?” he repeated, considering the implications.  So his alternate self had found a way to get control of the vibranium there...

Finally, he sighed.  “Look, if I’m going to play spy, I need to know more about me,” he told Fury.  He wasn’t sure if he was going to fool _anyone_ without knowing what this version of himself had become.

Fury nodded agreeably. “The files are in your room. Nothing fancy, I’m afraid. We had to go back to paper to avoid detection aboveground.”

He beckoned Steve over. “Captain Rogers will show you where you’ll be sleeping. He’ll also be your personal escort wherever you need to go, or provider of any extra details you might be curious about. Your access to many areas of the base is restricted. Feel free to speak to any of the Avengers that you see in the compound, but steer clear of the staff and don’t expect an overly warm welcome at first. There are some ugly memories here.”

He turned, looked at Steve pointedly, and walked out. “Best of luck, Stark. We’re counting on you.”

Tony watched Fury walk off and shook his head. “That man is infuriating in any reality,” he commented before glancing over at Steve. He pursed his lips and rocked on the balls of his feet.  “Lead on.”

Steve looked him up and down for a moment…  
  
He sighed heavily, wrapped his good arm around Tony’s shoulders, and held him tight to his chest for a moment.  Tony was completely caught off guard by the hug; he stumbled slightly, landing him further against Steve’s chest. “Hey buddy,” he replied instinctively, patting his shoulder.   
  
The super soldier didn’t let him go, not for a few seconds.  

Finally, Steve released him carefully and turned to the door.  “C’mon.”  
  
Tony looked the man up and down again, trying to figure him out, but he followed. “I take it I wasn’t always an asshole here, huh?” he asked, glancing as some workers quickened their pace when they saw him or turned in the other direction entirely. Some glared.  Others tried to fight the look of disgust off their faces.

Steve shook his head, in a movement almost undetectable if Tony hadn’t been looking for it.  “No. No, you weren’t,” he admitted, walking him over to the cage elevator.   
  
Once Tony had joined him, the super soldier closed the door and pulled the lever, sending the elevator on its long crawl up a shaft that stretched into blackness and out of sight.  Steve looked up into the shadows for a moment, grimacing and rolling his shoulder. “We – him and the Avengers – only came to blows a decade ago. What was left of us was forced underground a few years later, but even before that… there were some mixed feelings.”   
  
Tony pursed his lips as he listened, his eyes averted from the man. “What caused the rift?” he asked quietly, having to know.

Steve shifted, taking a moment to collect his thoughts as he looked down at the steel grating beneath his boots. Having Tony so close, after so long, even if it wasn’t the one that had been born in this reality… it was jarring. What kind of world did he come from? What person was Tony comparing him with right now? Had they been friends in his reality? Maybe more? God, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know...  
  
Finally, Steve found his voice, straightening his spine and looking forward. “He had been buying up small countries, giving them defense technology in exchange for their economy and loyalty when the time came,” he told Tony, not making eye contact. “His net worth was through the roof, higher than anyone in history because of that. SHIELD didn’t find out how he was doing it until he’d liquidated the entire American government and proposed a world merger. No more borders or individual countries. A lot of people didn’t agree. SHIELD finally decided he was too dangerous… so they sent the Avengers to talk him down or neutralize him, if need be.”  
  
He looked down. “A fight broke out. Bucky was killed, and I lost my arm.”  
  
Steve’s tired blue eyes glanced heavenward, watching their floor slowly approach. “He took my shield and used it to announce the launch of Ultron, make a point to the rest of the world. How our old ways needed to be put behind us. The war started and ended before the Avengers even had the chance to get back on their feet. We just… didn’t have the technology or the weapons to oppose him. By the time Wakanda joined the fight, it was too late. And the rest is history.”

Tony winced as Steve explained what had happened.  It sounded like something he might have done. Might do.  But he was starting to see that peace wasn’t good when it was at the cost of freedom; something Steve had taught him.  He felt responsible somehow. And he had never liked Barnes. He could tolerate him, but he didn’t think they would ever be friends.  He had a feeling Steve knew that in any reality. And then to take his shield… and the arm with it. Using it to promote peace while enslaving the entire world to his will with Ultron.  He now understood why his counterpart was hated.

“I’m sorry,” Tony murmured, looking down at his feet.  

“He said that too.”

That hurt.  And Tony was pretty certain it hurt Steve too.

Steve avoided Tony’s eyes as the lift finally stopped on the eighteenth floor.  “But it’s not your fault. You’re here to help us… hopefully.”  
  
He pulled the grating open and gestured him forward.  “Your room is just down this way. Mine is attached. So if you have any questions, I’m within earshot.”   
  
Tony shut up, not saying anything else as he followed Steve down the poorly lit hallway.  The whole place was depressing. Every penny they had must go to keeping themselves alive and getting rid of… him.  No room for fixing lights or peeling paint.   
  
Steve glanced back at him, eyes flickering across his face… then he turned his eyes back to the front.  “Sorry,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have said that. You didn’t have anything to do with this…”   
  
A moment passed in silence.   
  
Steve opened a door labeled 3490, letting Tony enter first before he closed the door behind them.  Inside, it was soundproofed, with a collection of photos and paintings across the walls – most of them looked like they’d been done by hand – but Tony could tell from the marks on the wallpaper that a few had been taken down.  Probably in preparation for his arrival.   
  
Steve gestured down the hall, which was little more than an attaching closet, into a small room off the side.  “Yours is down there. So, um…”   
  
Tony took in the surroundings.  He knew that Rogers had attended art school, and he figured he had been the one to paint the pictures that were put up.  He wondered why some had been purposefully taken down. Hell, he wondered where he got the supplies. Did they let Cap spend money for it for his help?  Or did he steal them so that he didn’t go crazy? A half dozen other scenarios flitted through his mind until Steve broke the silence.

Steve stuffed his hand into his pocket, almost self-consciously.  “In your… reality. What’s it like over there?” he asked quietly. “You said the Avengers Initiative worked out?”  
  
Tony sighed, running his hand through his hair.  “It did. For a while. But after we took out Ultron… the world thought it should be keeping a better eye on us.  Governments, actually, the UN in particular. I agreed. You… your other you… thought that we could police ourselves and that governments weren’t to be trusted.  It split our team in half. And we fought over it.”

Steve looked up at that.  He started to ask something else, but he closed his mouth after a second, rethinking his words.

“…How bad did it get?”

Tony sighed again, hoping he wouldn’t have had to answer that question.  “Barnes was framed for setting off a bomb at a conference and it killed the king of Wakanda.  You… _Rogers_ went after him without asking.  I was told to take the remaining members of the team to bring you all back in.  Rhodey… got hurt. Most of your team was imprisoned. I… caught up with you and Barnes and found out that he had killed my parents.  And you knew. I destroyed his arm and you disabled my suit to stop me. And then you took him and left your shield. You got the others out.  …We haven’t spoken since.”

His voice had a flat, monotone quality to it and he had a haunted look in his eyes as he stared at a spot on the floor, not really seeing it as he tried to describe what had happened.  
  
“It wasn’t Barnes’ fault.  The bomb. …Or….”

Tony couldn’t mention the tape.

“He was brainwashed.  You knew that. …I couldn’t see past my anger.”

“But no one died?”

Tony looked up at Steve sadly.  “No,” he managed to choke out in a whisper.  He could see the devastation in the man’s eyes.    
  
Tony could feel the full weight over that whole catastrophe on his chest at that moment, and all he knew was that he wished he could call Steve.  And apologize. His stubbornness had ruined what friendship they had and it took complete _ruin_ in a reality that could have been his to finally make him realize that.  God, he was an idiot and an asshole.   
  
“I’m sorry,” he said again, knowing that he couldn’t make up for this, nor did this help the Steve he knew in his own world.

Steve nodded, an old sadness still raw behind his eyes.  “I know you are.”

Black humor twisted the corner of Steve’s mouth slightly.  It had been ten years and it still felt like yesterday. Sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night, clench a phantom fist, convinced that it all had been some horrible nightmare… only to see the threads of silver in his hair and the stump and slowly sink back into cold reality.  
  
He sighed and looked back at Tony.  “I volunteered for this because I hoped that maybe we could talk again.  It doesn’t help what happened in the past. It’s… Yeah, it’s selfish of me to think you’d want to chat with me.  I’m not even your Steve. But if you… if you _would_ … it would mean a lot."

Furrowing his brow at that, Tony looked up at the super soldier, seeing that hope in his eyes. “Yeah.  I’d like that,” he replied sincerely, nodding his head. He cleared his throat, blinking and glancing around the place again.  He felt like he owed it to him, even if he wasn’t the Tony that had done this. And he missed him, even if he wasn’t his Steve.   
  
Steve smiled slightly, feeling like his heart had broken down the middle.  He couldn’t tell if he was sad or relieved or… or just both.   
  
“Here.”   
  
He showed Tony down the tiny hallway, almost having to sidle sideways to get through comfortably with his broad shoulders.     
  
They emerged in a room that was barely ten feet square.  The walls were clean, but barren, with a cot tucked against the far wall.  The linens were haphazardly done, like someone had only been able to pull the sheets with one hand, but there was a warm comforter folded on top of the pillow.

Tony sighed at how small the place was.  How did they all live like this for a decade?  And with it being his alter-ego’s fault, Tony just felt worse.

“We weren’t sure how big you’d be, so someone will be in tomorrow to fit you for clothes,” Steve explained.  “I managed to bribe a warm blanket from the laundry, though. It gets cold… well, all the time down here.”

Tony couldn’t help but give him a confused look.  How was supposed to go in as _himself_ if he wasn’t even the same size?  “What, is this me fat or something?”

“We weren’t entirely sure.  SHIELD had to make an educated guess with the reality algorithm.  The age was easier to guess at, within the span of a decade, but it was just as possible that a 60-year-old was going to come out of that rift.  With our limited resources, we could only prepare so much. This makes it easier though… you’re about the same size.”

Steve looked him over for a moment, managing a small smile.  “I hope you like blue.”  
  
Tony raised a brow.  “Why do I get the feeling that I’m not going to like blue?”   
  
Steve actually felt a tiny prickle of humor in his belly.  He remembered how much Tony liked to dress fancy. “Because it’s canvas,” he murmured.  “You seen Top Gun?”   
  
Tony pulled a face and groaned.  “Yes, I’ve seen Top Gun,” he answered unhappily, slumping onto the cot.  He was exhausted. Maybe getting sucked into a different reality had something to do with that.   
  
His hand fell on the blanket and it felt and looked like the best thing they had around.  He wondered why Steve went to the trouble of getting that for him when he had lost so much due to the other him.  “Thanks. This looks warm.”

Steve unconsciously watched Tony’s hands smooth over the soft blanket, something in his cold heart tingling back to life at the sight.

 _“You see, that’s why they call it the—“_   
  
_“Steve, I get it. You don’t have to explain it from beginning to end, you meatball.”_   
  
_“Oh, is that so? Well then…”_   
  
_Steve let out a sound of protest as Tony slapped a pillow over his face, then grinned and grabbed him. “You callin’ names, I can do that too!” Tony yelped, his eyes glittering with mirth as Steve rolled on top of him. He gave him a slow, gentle kiss… and eventually, Steve felt the fight drain from Tony’s body, their fingers intertwining. Wrapped up in a warm blanket._   
  
That was three months after they’d met. They weren’t Iron Man, or Captain America. They were certainly an unlikely couple… but they weren’t anything like that yet. They enjoyed each other’s company, ever since their fourth week in a veteran therapy group together. Their relationship was rocky at first. A lot of sass and snark and all at once there was pain and confession and a need to be close.   
  
He had just come out of the ice. Tony had just returned from a year of captivity in Afghanistan.   
  
This Tony sitting in front of him now… he looked younger, even though he wasn’t much older than the Tony Stark that Steve had met in that back room at the YMCA. There was a difference. This wasn’t the same person. He knew that.  But Steve had saved that blanket. He kept it for over twelve years. He never entertained the thought of throwing it away. Not now. Not ever. Right now, he was just lending it to the original owner. That was all…   
  
Steve smiled slightly down at Tony. “Get some sleep, shellhead…”   
  
The man in front of him transformed and it left Tony a little breathless.  The creases in his face smoothed. His eyes didn’t look so dead. Then he smiled at him and called him a name he hadn’t heard in ages.  If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought his reactor just had a short. But no, he felt a different kind of pain in his chest.   
  
He returned the smile as best he could, unfolding the blanket.  “Night, capsicle…”   
  
Somehow, Steve felt a slow, genuine smile spread across his lips. He beamed down at the floor, then back up at Tony. He knew he was being selfish, and stupid, trying to taste a piece of his old life. This wouldn’t end well. Not for anyone. Least of all for him.   
  
But those little butterflies in his stomach were worth the pain.   
  
Steve hooked his good hand into his belt loops, nodding at the stack of files beside the bed. “Just make sure to have at those in the morning.”

Tony gave a nod from his place on the floor.  He pulled the folders together quickly, knowing that even if he was exhausted, he wouldn’t be able to sleep for a long while.  

Steve stood there for a moment, not wanting to leave… but eventually he managed to give Tony a nod, and go back through the tiny hallway, back to his own room. Somehow it felt lighter, brighter than it normally did. Steve smiled quietly to himself, then he ducked under his cot, fetching his watercolors.  
  
He set up his easel, and began to sketch.

Meanwhile, Tony looked up to see if Steve was still there.  Somehow, the room felt a little more dreary.


	2. The Other Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know that feeling of dread when the otp gets together and there's still a LOT of fic to go? *delicately sprinkles that all over this chapter*

Since the loss of his dominant hand, Steve had had to teach himself to draw again.  It used to be easier, feeling the light carving of graphite against the paper, layering gentle shadows and planning for colors.  The end result now wasn’t as nice as something he might have done eleven or twelve years ago… but Steve still managed to sketch out the visage of a soft, melancholy Tony, wishing him good night with that stupid little nickname.

He smiled bittersweetly…  Then, a distant alarm sounded.

Steve quickly disassembled his kit and hid the unfinished picture under his bed.

-

Wrapping the blanket around him and inhaling Steve’s scent without realizing he was doing so, Tony opened up a third file and began pursuing it.  A lot of it was what Steve had summarized for him, but there were added pieces about what this reality’s Tony was up to, his demeanor, and even blueprints of his buildings in Wakanda, where he would have to go shut down Ultron.  He would have to memorize these pathways.  
  
He was extremely intent on the files when the alarm sounded, making Tony’s heart jump into his throat.  He looked around a little wild-eyed, wondering if he was supposed to evacuate.

But then Steve poked his head into his room, calm as ever.  “Ten minutes until they cut the lights and seal up everything for the night,” he told him. “Make sure you have yourself situated, otherwise you’re not going to be able to find anything for the next six hours. It’s a kind of darkness that your eyes can’t adjust to.”

Cutting the lights.  In a cave. For six _hours._   
  
Tony paled slightly, memories of Afghanistan itching at the back of his mind.  He tried to force them down. He swallowed and gave Steve a weak smile, tapping his arc reactor, his fingers making a dull thud against it.  “Built in nightlight,” he reminded Steve. “Thanks for the heads up,” he added, not realizing that his fingers had pulled the blanket around himself a little more tightly.

Steve glanced down at the arc reactor, brows raised slightly.  He’d forgotten about that. He nodded slightly. “I’ll be in here.  If you need anything…” he murmured, hesitating at the sight of Tony wrapped in his blanket.  “Just… you know. Holler.”  
  
Tony gave Steve another nod, his throat feeling tight.  It would be selfish to ask the man to stay. He would be fine.  He had light. He wasn’t in Afghanistan. He’d be alright.   
  
Tony watched him leave again and tried to focus on the files.  Working helped. He had almost calmed himself down when the lights suddenly turned off.   
  
He was in a world of darkness.   
  
His arc reactor glowed pitifully across the files strewn in front of him, casting them in an eerie, blue light.  He heard a clanking that echoed against the cavern walls, maybe metal doors being shut somewhere, and the sound reminded him far too much of the sounds of captivity.  Tony started breathing harder, his breaths coming out in gasps after a moment. _Come on.  Breathe. You’re okay.  You’ll be okay._   
  
Shaking his head, he pulled the blanket tightly around himself, thinking better of it when it doused the light completely and left him in utter darkness.  He kept the blanket pulled around his shoulders, but open in the front. Shadows danced around him, taunting him, waiting just outside of the orb of light, waiting to attack.  He wheezed, starting to panic.   
  
Standing up and lurching forward, Tony made his way out of his room and down the wretched hallway.  He almost turned back, not wanting to venture into the black abyss before him, but he knew his only sanctuary was just a little further.  He stumbled into Steve’s room, the light falling across his resting form, illuminating his face in a cold way. God he looked dead.  Frozen.  Under the ice once more.  Tony let out another wheezing gasp, his fingers clutching the wall.   
  
“I…can’t…” Tony managed, his voice a bit disembodied.

Steve startled awake, eyes flitting upward towards the source of the noise.  With the glow of the reactor below him, it threw ghastly shadows across Tony’s face; instinctively adrenaline rushed through him, a fight or flight response generated by the ghoulish visage before him, but all at once he saw Tony’s terrified expression and _instinct_ – protective instinct that he should have left behind a decade ago – took over.   
  
“Hey, hey!” Steve whispered, sitting up.  He gently gripped the back of Tony’s neck, cradling the base of his skull and softly pressing his forehead up against Tony’s.  The cool blue light fluttered over them both, shadows cast into the corners of the room as he kept Tony still. What he wouldn’t have given for another hand…   
  
“Breathe.  Just breathe.  It’s okay…” he murmured.  “It’s okay. I’m here, it’s fine, you’re okay…”

Sharp gasps left Tony’s lips, his chest heaving and making the shadows dance around them again.  But Steve was well illuminated in front of him, his large form comforting. The warmth of his touch, his head pressed to his, and his soothing low tone managing to remind Tony that he wasn’t about to be tortured, that he was safe.  A choked sob escaped from him as he inhaled, shuddering and leaning into Steve.  
  
“It’s okay…” Steve murmured.  “Come here… no one’s going to hurt you.  I’m not going to hurt you...”   
  
He gently pulled Tony down, wishing for another hand to guide him down to the bed.  He smiled hesitantly, his fingers sliding down to Tony’s waist, helping him find a place next to him.   
  
His Tony had had panic attacks too.  He had hated the dark…   
  
“I should have known…” Steve whispered softly.  “I’m sorry, Tony…”   
  
He felt his body pulled down and onto the cot that served as a bed.  Tony instinctively curled into Steve’s embrace, not even questioning the possible problems that could arise from intimacy.  He had loved his Steve, and his heart had broken when he had chosen Bucky over their friendship. Maybe they could have had more.  He didn’t know. Maybe if he hadn’t given Steve an ultimatum, he could have kept him...   
  
A few tears streamed down Tony’s face as he continued to sob and gasp, but his breathing was beginning to slow and get deeper, finding the end of his panic attack.  He exhaled heavily, his hot breath warming the space between them, the light of his reactor making a bright little home between their bodies. Tony focused his gaze there, focused on the slow rise and fall of Steve’s chest and tried to mimic it, the action helping him regulate his breathing.  He would have to get up. He should leave. It wasn’t fair to this Steve to use him for safety and comfort when he had his issues with this reality’s Tony. But maybe, if he closed his eyes, he could stay just a little longer.   
  
“Sorry,” he finally murmured, closing his eyes for a moment.   
  
Steve sighed, pulling Tony a little closer. “It’s okay…” he mumbled. It was so strange to have light in his room… so bizarre to see something. Someone. Part of him wondered if it was a dream. He’d had dreams that felt realer…   
  
He resisted the urge to press a kiss into Tony’s temple. He just held him close. That was all his Tony had wanted, too…   
  
“How long?” Steve asked softly. “How long were you in that place?”   
  
He knew exactly what he was asking.  He figured it wasn’t that different in this reality.  Hell, it was why he became Iron Man, right? Without that turning point in his life, he probably would have continued building weapons, being the rich playboy that went to parties and wasn’t good for anything else   
  
“Three months,” he muttered.   
  
Steve blinked in surprise, trying not to show his shock, but the brief tension of his body gave it away.   
  
“Oh…”   
  
Surprisingly, it was that reaction that snapped Tony back into his snarky self.   
  
“Oh?  OH? Is three months of captivity not enough for a legitimate panic attack?” Tony snapped, his brow furrowed and mouth turned into a frown.  When he got back from his ordeal, all he heard was how he was so lucky to have been able to get out so quickly. That he seemed to be holding up so well and that had he been there longer, they might have been really worried.  Those people that sat in their offices and thought the worst thing that had happened to them was a flat tire in the middle of traffic.   
  
“N-No!  I…. no. That’s not what I meant.  Really.”   
  
Steve looked at him in concern. “I just didn’t know. I don’t know what I was expecting. I’m sorry.”   
  
Tony let out a breath through his nose, having a hard time cooling down now.  He closed his eyes, trying to stop himself from biting Steve’s head off.   
  
“How long was he there?” he asked quietly, knowing that Steve had his counterpart in mind when he asked.   
  
Steve hesitated, eyes flickering down to Tony’s chest.   
  
“… A little less than a year.”   
  
He wanted to touch him. He wanted to do something more to comfort him. But there was only so much…   
  
“They caught him. During his first escape attempt. Forced him to build the missile again and when he refused… they weren’t accommodating,” Steve murmured. “But their mistake was doing his punishment in public. Satellite images caught it. It still took a few months for Colonel Rhodes to get permission to mount an escape attempt.”   
  
Tony’s eyes widened as he lay on his back, staring up into the inky blackness above them.  He couldn’t help but wince, imagining how it really could have been worse.

Steve smiled mirthlessly, eyes lingering on the arc reactor. “We met in a veteran recovery group. He wasn’t exactly the nicest guy at first.”  
  
Finally, Tony glanced sideways to look at Steve.  “I wasn’t the nicest guy to begin with…. Can’t imagine what level of assholery you had to put up with there.”  
  
“Honestly, it was irritating as hell. But it was also refreshing,” Steve murmured, smiling faintly in the soft light from the reactor. “He gave the group quite a tongue lashing. I pulled him aside and scolded him for it, and he punched me in the face. He didn’t know who I was yet, so he broke his hand. It wasn’t the best first impression.”  
  
Tony snorted and then actually laughed.  And once he started, he just kept _laughing._  He had this image of him trying to punch out Steve and breaking his hand in the process.  How Steve probably just stared at him, not the least bit hurt. Tony laughed harder, tears coming to his eyes.  Maybe his laughing was a bit on the hysterical side, a byproduct of all the stress he had been through that day, but god it felt good.  He was glad for it.

Steve stared at Tony, wide-eyed as the man laughed radiantly. It stole his breath away… and for a moment his mind abandoned him.  He moved forward, drawing in breath as his lips barely brushed Tony’s— then he stopped, quickly pulling away less than an inch from kissing him.

Tony swiped at his eyes a little, and when he pulled his hand back, he suddenly felt the softness of lips barely flitting across his.  Tony’s eyes opened wide, brows shooting up.

Steve swallowed, eyes cast down to the arc reactor.

For a moment, the air was so tense that they could have cut it with a knife.

“I’m not him,” Tony whispered after a moment, feeling a little crestfallen.  It wasn’t right to let Steve pretend he was someone he wasn’t.

“I _know,_ I-I…”   
  
Steve couldn’t look at him. “I know,” he murmured. “It’s… just been a long time. I didn’t… didn’t mean to. I understand if… no, I get it. I won’t do it again.”   
  
He looked up into Tony’s eyes. “I promise.”   
  
Tony watched him carefully, seeing the slight blush to his cheeks, the way his chest rose and fell quickly as he tried to explain himself, the way he ran his tongue over his lips nervously.  Tony was about to let it go, agree that it was for the best, when Steve’s eyes met his. Blue eyes that were all the brighter with the arc reactor illuminating them. His breath caught. Everything in his brain yelled that he shouldn’t do it.

He did it anyway.

He leaned forward and kissed Steve.  Hard.

A split second later he pulled back and squinted his eyes shut, grimacing.   _“Shit,_ no, sorry.  Bad idea. _Really_ bad.  Sorry,” he hissed, mentally berating himself.  

“Yeah, _really_ bad…!” Steve whispered breathlessly.

He reached back up, holding Tony’s neck and kissing him back. Their tongues slid against each other, warm and intimate and hungry. Steve pulled away for air, the fireworks between them bright and startling, almost dazzling in the darkness. “Really bad idea…”  
  
He kissed him again.

Tony breathed Steve in, arching against him as he craved more, needing to be close as they kissed.  Their mouths explored and tasted and touched, starving for the other. “Terrible idea,” Tony added as he gasped for a breath, diving back in and nibbling on Steve’s bottom lip, his hands moving at his waist and pushing up his shirt to feel his warm, muscular chest underneath.   _This isn’t healthy.  This isn’t healthy for either of you.  Quit while you’re ahead, Stark. You’ll survive without him._

Steve pulled him into his lap, sharing his breath with the man he loved. “We really can’t— mm!” he gasped, cut short by a kiss that made his toes curl. God damn _everything,_ Tony was an incredible kisser. He always was.

He sucked in a breath, like he could steal the air from Tony’s lungs and breathe for them both. “We shouldn’t…”  
  
Their lips met again, silencing him. Steve opened his mouth hungrily, welcoming the familiar taste, sight, sound of his Tony.  It wasn’t the man who had shown him that he was in love. But Tony…. Tony was Tony was _Tony._ He might not have had the same memories or know what it felt like to fuck slow and soft in a warm master bed, but he tasted the same. Steve loved him the same. His Iron Man…   
  
“I can’t…” Steve heard himself start to warn him.   
  
He stopped kissing him, just enough to yank his shirt up over his shoulders and cast it aside. He wrapped his arm around Tony’s waist and pulled him close, kissing a soft trail down the man’s neck.

This was uncharted territory for Tony.  He and Steve had spent years bickering and throwing snarky comments back and forth… and smiling and laughing.  They had so much but nothing had never come from it. It wasn’t that they didn’t care, they both certainly did, but somehow they just kept it to a close friendship… until they parted ways.  It was something that he always regretted.

This Steve had been hurt, in a lot of ways more than the Steve back in his reality, but either way, Tony was the one who had hurt him.  And he still wanted him.   
  
Tony groaned as the super soldier wrapped his arm around his waist, his hips arching down against Steve’s with the motion.  The kisses down his neck gave him a chance to catch his breath, but he found that he didn’t like being parted.   
  
He leaned forward to kiss him again -- and then his _stupid brain_ called for reason and he stopped, resting his forehead against Steve’s.  “Tell me that you want this. That you want _me_ .  That you’re not pretending I’m _him,”_ Tony panted, mentally kicking himself.  Since when did he get a conscience? But he _cared_ about Steve.  It didn’t matter that this wasn’t the Steve from his reality– it was still _him._  Maybe a bit battered and worn, but his heart was still there.  His eyes were the same.   
  
Steve pulled himself away, looking up into Tony’s face…   
  
He smiled softly, longingly, sadly up at him. “You’re _you_ …” he whispered. “No matter where you come from, you’re just… you’re Tony. You’re snarky and unbearable sometimes and you make my life miserable. But I love Tony Stark.”   
  
Steve rested his head on the man’s shoulder. “I love Tony Stark…” he breathed softly. “You’re different but you’re the same and I want everything that makes you _you._ Even the bad stuff.”   
  
Tony listened intently, his heart clenching in a good sort of way when Steve said that he loved him.  Any version of him.   
  
“Good enough for me,” he whispered, his lips connecting with Steve’s again, but this time much more slowly.  He was still desperate for contact, but he wanted to savor him. To really _feel._  Steve moaned softly into Tony’s mouth, hands sliding up into the man’s clothes… and slowly he pinned his lover beneath him.   
  
They didn’t go all the way that night. He wouldn’t let that happen. Not yet. He didn’t have the strength to last, anyway, but it was slow and soft and intimate, stripping each other clean of their clothes so that there could be nothing but skin contact.  Not to say that there wasn’t an orgasm involved; Tony’s fingernails left deep red furrows into Steve’s back, and in the end, they were breathing hard in each other’s arms, legs tangled and blankets on the floor.

Steve pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to the arc reactor. “I missed you…” he whispered, the soft blue light illuminating his features as he gazed down at Tony.  
  
Tangled up in him, Tony’s fingers slid through his hair.  He smiled genuinely, glancing up at his lover. “Missed you too.  I do have a penchant for terrible ideas, you know,” he smirked, rolling onto his side to face Steve, his lips finding a spot on Steve’s neck that he lazily sucked and nipped at.  “Though you may get the credit for this one…”   
  
Steve grimaced at the thought.  “Yeah…”   
  
But still, he closed his eyes, relishing the feeling.  Despite everything, he could still lose himself in Tony’s touch.  “Mmm… Stop that…”   
  
“Stop what?” Tony replied, continuing to give Steve a hickey.  He really didn’t give a care what kind of message it sent. He just wanted to lavish Steve with attention and ecstasy… and _love._  He had probably been in denial for years, but he was in love with the stupid guy.  This had just forced him to realize it.   
  
_“That...”_ Steve murmured, brows furrowing.  He sighed unconsciously and sunk his fingers into Tony’s short, dark hair, curving his muscular body against the smaller man.  “Even if you leave a mark, it’s going to fade by morning…”   
  
“Then what’s the problem?” Tony asked, stopping momentarily anyway.  

Steve opened his mouth, taking in a breath to explain… but he came up with nothing. He hesitated, then sighed, letting his lungs deflate.

“Nothing. At least not with kissing…” Steve murmured.  
  
He leaned down, capturing Tony’s warm, abused mouth and silently wondering what was going through his head. Steve’s brain was spinning a mile a minute. This was all too real. He wasn’t sure he was ready… but Tony was here, now. He wasn’t about to let his Iron Man go again.   
  
Tony could feel the underlying current of overthinking in Steve’s kiss. His hand moved to rest against the back of Steve’s neck, his other on his chest, his fingers an inch from Steve’s bicep where the arm ended abruptly.  It didn’t bother him. At least not because of the missing arm. Why he was missing the arm was something different. He knew this was wrong in so many ways. Not because of how they felt for each other, but because they both knew that this couldn’t end well. Different realities, the ultimate long distance relationship, right? He knew that this was going to wreak havoc on both of their hearts, but he couldn’t find the strength to stop. His heart begged for Steve in his life and he had him now, even if it was for a brief moment.   
  
His soft mouth caressed Steve’s lips, needing him to know that he was cherished. Tony’s fingers inched over to rest on his heart, feeling the steady beat underneath warm skin. Oh, how he wished he could somehow protect it.

“Were we… something? In your reality…?” Steve murmured.  It might ruin the mood, but he couldn’t care. There was an unbearable amount of tenderness in Tony’s touch… He had to know.

Tony stopped his kisses, staring at Steve’s lips for a moment. “…No. …We could have been,” he murmured a little sadly, resting his cheek on the blonde’s shoulder.

“How long have you known each other?” Steve asked quietly, reaching up. His long, pale fingers played softly in Tony’s hair, a little thicker than what he was used to touching. But that wasn’t a bad thing, not at all…

Tony thought back to when they had first met. “Since the Avengers were started. When Loki took the Tesseract,” he told Steve. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Steve’s fingers running through his hair.  
  
“You met right before the Chitauri attacked?” Steve asked, looking down at him in surprise.  He smiled faintly, massaging that one sore spot that his Tony had always complained about. “How did that work out? Tensions must have been high.”   
  
Tony groaned in appreciation, his massage feeling oh-so-good. “It was tense,” he agreed. “We spent a good deal of the time bickering until I finally realized he was the natural leader and he should call the shots. Then it went more smoothly.”   
  
He breathed in deeply, his thumb rubbing over Steve’s stomach absentmindedly. “How did _you_ two end up getting together?”

Steve’s smile faded for a moment. It was a question that a lot of people had asked him years ago, after everything happened. They wanted to know how, why Captain America of all people had fallen for a man that had become a villain.

But… this was Tony. Somehow, it felt like telling a story of them.  
  
Steve’s smile returned, soft and subdued. “There was competition. A lot of competition. He was convinced that his fire died in that cave and he was just living as a ghost, even if he wouldn’t admit it. And me… After he punched me and nothing happened, with my name, it was only a matter of time before he connected the dots. He had a lot of questions. He was really… blunt, actually.”   
  
A hint of a smirk crept up on Tony’s lips. He lifted his head a bit so he could look at Steve better. “So, nothing at all like me. Continue,” he joked, his eyes sparkling a little with mirth.   
  
Steve grinned at that, pressing a kiss to Tony’s temple and holding him close. His eyes wandered over the wall, focused on some point far in the distance. “He told me later that there was some kind of ‘historical fascination’ where I was concerned. He said that over time, he realized why Howard had never stopped talking about me and he _hated_ it. It was easy for him to get fussy, but he sort of… got better. Therapy didn’t do much for him. It didn’t do much for me either. It’s not like anyone in our veteran group could understand or empathize with what happened to us… so, we stopped going. At least to the therapy group. We started… being friends. Friends that snapped back and forth at each other, but still friends.”   
  
His gaze darkened, his hold on Tony tightening protectively. “Then Obadiah Stane happened.”   
  
A chill ran down Tony’s spine and he shuddered, a haunted look glazing over his eyes. Just the mention of his name made him feel dirty and like he needed to crawl out of his skin. He didn’t say anything, but his breathing shortened in response, like the kid that tries to stay quiet under the covers so that the monsters don’t find you.

“I should’ve been there with him… but SHIELD told me to go with Pepper,” Steve murmured.

“ _And bring your shield,” Coulson told him firmly._   
  
_Steve scowled. “But if what’s on that flash drive is real, Tony could be—!”_   
  
_“I’m sorry, Cap. Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just conveying orders. We have a security detail headed Stark’s way. He’ll be fine.”_   
  
Steve sighed quietly, tucking his face down against Tony’s shoulder. “You— Tony and Obadiah started slugging it out on the highway. I was close by, so I interfered. He wasn’t expecting to have to deal with both of us… but I took a few hits. I didn’t exactly have any power armor.”

Tony winced at the thought, wondering how the rest of that fight went different. Was he still stuck on the roof alone?  He shuddered again, closing his eyes tightly. He didn’t want to think about it. He still had nightmares about it.

“He — you — Tony… he pulled me out of the wreckage afterwards, gave me a tongue lashing, then kissed me,” Steve murmured, smiling bittersweetly to himself. “He refused to let me leave him alone… and even though it all took me by surprise, I didn’t want to. We talked… we slept together… we stayed together.”  
  
Opening his eyes once more, Tony relaxed a bit, imagining the scenario.  It made him smile a little.   
  
Furrowing his brow, Tony tilted his head.  “Did he tell you about the palladium problem?” he asked, knowing he had kept that a complete secret.  No one ever knew how close he had come to dying from metal poisoning. Maybe they suspected, but he hadn’t told them just how sick he had been.

Steve shook his head somberly. “No. I had to find out by myself,” he murmured. “He was trying to break up with me and I didn’t understand why. Once I did find out… he tried to push me away. I didn’t let him.”

Tony sighed.  His life was a mess in any reality, it appeared.  He was tired. He didn’t want to relive his sordid past.  
  
“Tell me a time you were truly happy,” he whispered.  He needed that.   
  
Steve smiled, eyes glimmering with nostalgia. “There were a lot of those,” he admitted. “Just one time, huh…?”   
  
He chewed on his lip thoughtfully, then smiled happily. “You and I went out to that one ice cream place, on 4th in Brooklyn, but on the way back we got caught in a rainstorm,” he chuckled. “You were so fussy. Like a soaked cat.  We ended up hiding out at a bus stop while Happy worked through traffic to pick us up… but in the end, the bus came first. It took two hours to get back to Stark Tower in the traffic. You fussed almost the whole way, until you fell asleep on my shoulder…”   
  
Steve chuckled, gently squeezing Tony’s shoulders. “We took a hot shower together, then we just curled up on the couch, shared a blanket, watched some old movie that you like. Then we put in another movie. And then another one. Then we ordered Chinese, and fell asleep on the couch. It was the best day I’d ever had.”   
  
Tony smiled softly, his eyes welling a little over a memory that wasn’t his.  “Sounds like a great day,” he agreed, snuggling a little further into Steve. What would it have been like to have that?  How could something so happy make him _sad...?_

“When you get back, take him on a date, okay?” Steve mumbled sleepily, holding him even closer. “I’m pretty sure he’ll say yes~”

He could feel Steve falling asleep beneath him.  Tony nodded, a hollow look to his eyes. “Yeah,” he whispered, holding onto him and staring off into the dark.  Mercifully, exhaustion finally took over and Tony fell asleep being held by the one person that would.

Steve felt his mouth curve up softly, looking down at his Tony…  
  
This was _his Tony_ now.  He was _here,_ in his arms.  So he would hold him, be his, as long as he could…


	3. What's Left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony witnesses the destruction of the Avengers.

The next morning came all at once, with a sudden flash of fluorescent light as the lights cut back on.   
  
Steve grimaced, tucking his face into his bad arm out of habit, using what was left of his bicep to block out that rude awakening for a few seconds.  While his eyes adjusted, he shifted and suddenly remembered what had happened last night.   
  
He immediately turned over, blue eyes finding Tony’s all but nude body tucked into his side.   
  
Oh… so that _ hadn’t _ been a dream…   
  
Tony was sated and exhausted: a dangerous combination that meant he was passed out. The lights didn’t wake him -- how could they when he had a light shining in his eyes twenty-four seven? -- and it wasn’t until Steve jostled that he let out a grumpy moan. Upon seeing a naked Steve barely covered by a blanket next to him, last night came flooding back.  But he was too tired for worrying. Might as well enjoy what he had rather than dwell on the issues again...   
  
“Hey,” Tony groaned through a yawn, giving him a bit of a smile. He closed his eyes again, actually considering going back to sleep.

Steve swallowed, eyes lingering on the toned chest and warm, olive skin that tempted him like an open canvas.  He couldn’t help but smile a little bit, reaching around to jostle Tony with his good arm. “Wake up, shellhead…” he mumbled, giving him a gentle, playful smack on the cheek.  “We have to get you some clothes before we can eat.”

Tony grumbled, flailing his arms blindly to try and knock Steve’s hand away. But he did open his eyes and yawn again, stretching and sitting up. “Reality jumping takes a lot out of a guy,” he justified, standing up and not caring that he was  _ completely  _ in the buff. He slowly started collecting his clothes and putting them on so he could follow Steve… wherever they were supposed to be going.  Steve helped him straighten his clothes, making sure that his charge was properly awake before he made his own bed and walked outside. 

It was timeless and unchanging outside in the hallway, with constant, glaring lights casting blue-grey shadows across the concrete floor. It wasn’t entirely unlike a prison, all the way down to the grim expressions on the people that passed them.

Steve barely resisted putting his hand on Tony’s lower back. He patted his shoulder and led him back to the elevator. “Come on.”   
  
First stop was laundry, where a half-asleep attendant took Tony’s measurements and tossed him several blue canvas jumpsuits, pants, boots, and long-sleeved shirts that used to be white. They smelled clean enough, soft and worn from use.   
  
Attempting to hold back a sigh, he took the clothes and glanced them over.  “Alright. I take it I’ll have something else when I play myself. How long exactly is this operation going to take?” he voiced, glancing at Steve.  His brow furrowed then. Just how long he was supposed to  _ be _ here?  A few days?  Weeks? Months?  And what was happening in his own reality?  Was his own reality screwing up because he just vanished?  He chewed on the inside of his cheek, completely awake now.   
  
Steve hesitated at that. It was certainly a question to be answered.

“SHIELD wants to be sure that you’re familiar enough with Stark’s technology that you can figure out what to do when you get there. They’ll also want to remove the arc reactor, and inject you with vibranium nanotech. It won’t be able to form into a suit, like his can, but it’ll fool the DNA scanners.”

Tony stared at him in disbelief, whites visible all around his eyes.  His heart rate jumped. “I’m sorry, they’re gonna  _ what?” _   
  
“Just because we have to use outdated technology, doesn’t mean we don’t have good doctors. They can take the shrapnel out of your chest and lay down some skin grafts,” Steve reassured him. “If you want it back after the mission I’m sure they can arrange it.”   
  
Sucking in a breath through his nose, Tony contemplated the whole idea.  No more arc reactor. No more shrapnel. The light wouldn’t be there, but neither would the pain, at least he hoped.  His chest always twinged around the reactor no matter what he did.   
  
“Okay,” he finally breathed, giving a nod.  “When is that happening?”

Steve looked at him concernedly. “I’m not sure. As soon as they can prep the surgery…  Probably sometime this week.”

Tony took that piece of information and nodded, internalizing any fear or doubts he had. “Okay, what are we doing until then? You guys have access to the tech I need to learn or are manuals all I’m getting?” he asked, all business.  Working on his tech helped him to relax, keep focused on his objectives… especially with news like _ that  _ pinging around in his head like a goddamn pinball machine.

Steve almost looked apologetic. “SHIELD has a few contained viruses that he designed, and an early version of Ultron’s master satellite,” he confessed. “The information density is insane. Not a lot of our technicians managed to get very far, and it’s not much to compare with what he’s created since then, but Bruce got the farthest out of anyone. He said that if you got access to the blueprints you might be able to think of what improvements would hypothetically have been made by this time. What kind of upgrades would a paranoid Tony Stark have come up with? That sort of thing.”

He walked down the hall with Tony, being careful to guide him down the corridors with the least amount of foot traffic, heading towards the lab. “We also have video archives. Fights… things like that. You can take a look at his weapons. Maybe deduce something from those.”   
  
“Banner’s here?” Tony asked with raised brows. He wondered how Bruce was holding up with everything, of all people. Confined spaces like this just didn’t seem good for the guy.   
  
They headed into the lab and Tony dumped his clothes on an empty seat near the entry. He glanced around. “Lab” was putting things nicely. What technology there was completely outdated. Most of the stuff was analog, very little in the way of digital, and he had a feeling WiFi was completely out of the question. Anything he needed interfaced would require finding the right equipment. _ Joy. _   
  
“Let’s start with the videos. I want to see what he’s got,” Tony stated, figuring he could make better assumptions himself than trying to read someone else’s description. Then he would try tackling the Ultron software. He half-wondered if that was what all these computers were dedicated to. If it was as massive as Steve suggested, it would be straining their resources just to run it, let alone analyze.   
  
Steve nodded. “Okay… I’ll get out of your way, then.”   
  
He pulled a chair from the table and sat in the corner, where he was well out of the way. With a faint electronic squeal, he took a small shortwave walkie talkie off its holster and switched it to the third setting. “Banner?” he called into the mic.   
  
Static answered back… then it beeped.   
__   
_ “Yeah, Cap?” _   
  
“He’s here. He says he wants to see the videos first.”   
__   
_ “I’ll be down in a second. Uhh… what’s he look like?” _   
  
Steve glanced up at Tony, shrugging slightly to himself. “Less grey. More stable. He has a sense of humor.”   
  
__ “Well that’s good, at least.”   
  
Tony stood by and watched Steve for the entirety of that conversation. Had it been different circumstances, he would have snatched the radio and made a snarky remark to his friend. But he had the sense not to. It just wasn’t right. He turned away instead and watched what one technician was up to. After a minute, he figured out that they had reduced the other Stark’s code down to its basic structure and he was analyzing wave patterns with an oscilloscope. Clever, but probably useless. Tony wrote his code in such ways to always have changing algorithms so it would be near-impossible to hack. Whatever the oscilloscope displayed would have no recognizable pattern.   
  
He was debating whether informing the technician that his work was useless or letting him think he was still helping when Bruce walked in. He didn’t notice though, still absorbed in his thoughts.

Bruce paused halfway into the door, instinct making him go still when he saw that familiar profile. Steve was right, this Tony held himself just a little differently, more curiosity in his eyes than determination….

He cleared his throat, announcing his presence. “Hey, Tony.”   
  
Upon turning around, Tony saw that Bruce’s hair — while his face had aged the appropriate amount — had gone almost fully white. Some of his muscle tone had been lost, and he, like everyone else, looked sun-deprived and just slightly malnutritioned. His eyes were tired, and so was his smile. At least Steve managed to look somewhat healthy minus the arm... but Bruce looked like a shadow of the guy he knew.    
  
“So they actually yanked you in from another reality, huh,” Bruce mused, a little bit of curiosity gleaming through the exhaustion. “I’d love to hear about your trip here… after all this mess is over with, hopefully.”   
  
Tony managed to keep his expression locked down.  “Hey, Bruce. Yeah, I have a feeling you’ll appreciate that I may have an inkling of what you’ve been through…”

“You said you wanted the see the video archives?”

He nodded. “Chronologically, starting with the oldest. I want to see the natural progression of the tech. And I need dates in order to get an idea of how quickly he’s upgrading.” He glanced around and snagged an empty notebook and pen, wanting to make notes while he watched.   
  
Bruce nodded, glancing cautiously at Steve. “All of them?”   
  
Steve nodded somberly.   
  
The scientist shrugged to himself. “Okay then. I’ll go get the first batch.”   
  
The first batch were familiar to Tony, from fourteen years ago in this timeline. 2008 and 2009 were similar to that of his own — and so did 2010, but by 2011, even on a video screen Tony could see a difference in the other him. There was a deep shadow underneath the intelligent sheen of his eyes, secrets that were kept even from those closest to him. Plans that would mean the collapse of the American government only a few months after. Up until then, his technology was familiar. Honestly, Tony recognized _ quite _ a few similarities. He made notes of those and any thoughts he had in the process. As the videos progressed, he made more notes, his brow starting to furrow at the differences. The tech was becoming more vicious and  _ defensive. _ When Tony could, he tried to implement non-lethal weapons into his suit, and when he  _ did  _ implement lethal weapons, he tried to make sure they were quick. Some of the things that Stark had created were slower, hurting their victims before death. On the defensive aspect, the armor was thicker and had new additions, like automatic shielding. He watched as an exterior shield covered the existing armor in weak areas during one blast. It was almost as if he were afraid of being attacked constantly. Of not having backup.   
  
Then, Bruce hesitated putting in the next disc. He looked at Steve again.  Tony looked up and glanced between him and Steve, noticing the pause.   
  
When Steve didn’t react, Bruce made a forlorn face and pushed the disc in.   
  
“This was the fight at the White House,” he told him. “When the Avengers went after him.”   
  
Tony paled, his eyes glancing at where Steve’s missing arm should be before turning his attention back to the screen.

The video started with only two people in the room.

Steve and Tony.   
  
There was no audio, but as a combat archival video, it hadn’t included the argument beforehand. The two were yelling at each other, Stark getting into his space and spitting a scathing, furious response up into Steve’s face. A flash of pain crossed the super soldier’s face… then he murmured something.   
  
_ I’m sorry. _ __   
  
Onscreen, he saw Stark’s eyes widen in realization.   
  
The man spun, reaching out to the wall. A hidden slot opened and an Iron Man suit flew from the space behind it, latching onto his body. A tiny shower of sparks cast off his helmet. A sniper bullet.   
  
The window shattered and the other Avengers — minus Thor — crashed into the room; Natasha, Clint, the Hulk, Bucky. They weren’t as well outfitted, Tony had noticed. It was the Avengers without his help, without his weapons and armor upgrades that put them several cuts above any human enemies.   
  
On tape, Stark blasted Steve in the gut, with an electrical pulse that sent him writhing. He grabbed Natasha and Clint and hurled them bodily across the room; her back bent unnaturally against the corner of his desk, and when she collapsed, she didn’t move again. Clint scrambled over to her, checking her pulse and yelling what had to be her name.   
  
“Her spine,” Banner explained quietly. “She wasn’t able to walk for three years. She’s still having trouble with relearning hand-to-hand combat.”   
  
On screen, the Hulk smashed into Stark’s shield and grabbed him with a hand almost as big as he was. The man’s limbs were scrambling against the monster’s green skin; even if no one could see his face, his terror was evident as the armor started to crack.   
  
Suddenly, Banner paused the video and stepped forward, pointing at a section of pixels between Stark’s gauntlet and the Hulk’s wrist. “Watch that area,” he mumbled, and pressed play again.   
  
The gauntlet was turned, pressed tight against the Hulk’s green skin, and seemed to jerk with a discharge. If he hadn’t been looking for it he would have missed it.   
  
“We think it was weaponized seratonin,” Banner explained, as the Hulk stumbled backwards and withered into Bruce Banner. “It’s altered my brain chemistry so that I’m always happy and relaxed, but we never found a way to fix it. Haven’t seen hide or hair of the Hulk in a decade.”   
  
Iron Man advanced on him, armor sparking, and sunk three repulsor blasts into him, knocking him out cold — possibly meaning to kill him with the way he was walking — but suddenly Bucky grabbed the armor around the back. The dark-haired super soldier yanked him back into the center of the room just as Steve finally managed to get up. Stark fired at Clint, breaking his bow and cracking his head against the desk; he went down next to Natasha. Blood slowly soaked into the carpet.   
  
“Lost a few brain cells, but Clint wasn’t too worse for wear,” Bruce admitted. “He was the only one that really walked away from all this.”   
  
As the events unfolded onscreen, the color drained completely from Tony’s face. He watched quietly, attempting to make notes but finding himself stuck watching the horror of it all. Weaponized seratonin… It was ingenious, but cruel. No wonder Bruce seemed relaxed. He didn’t have a choice.  That wasn’t him. It  _ wasn’t. _ He would never  __ do that…!  

Bucky and Steve teamed up on him onscreen, their enhanced, adrenaline-spiked bodies doing all that they could to subdue the armored man. Siberia flew to the front of his mind; the coordination and desperation for survival, tossing the shield between the both of them until Stark managed to get in a shot.  Steve hit the wall with a silent crash, briefly shaking the tiny office camera that had captured it all. Bucky rounded on him, both hands digging into the chest plate of Tony’s armor. Sparks flew and metal gave slowly—!  
  
Tony could see the other him close his fists. He could almost hear it in his head.  
  
“ _Full power to chest thruster.”_  
  
The resulting flash blinded the camera for a split second.  
  
The damaged armor blocked the sight of Bucky Barnes’s shivering body, but it didn’t cover the sight of the soft Oval Office carpet soaking rapidly through with dark, fresh blood.  
  
Stark seemed to realize at the same second that the blast had gone through more than just Bucky’s chest. 

Steve was on the ground, clinging to the end of his arm that was much too short now. His shield lay on the ground a few paces away with the blackened remains of a once mighty limb, blasted clear of his body.

Stark stepped forward, the camera only able to capture the back of his head… but Tony could almost hear it.   
  
_ “I’m sorry…” _   
  
The other Steve looked up at him, pain twisting his expression. _ “He was my friend…!” _   
  
The other Tony’s shoulders dropped. Just like his did when he came to a terrible, unavoidable conclusion.   
  
_ “So was I.” _   
  
The man turned around, eyes like black fire fixed on the camera. His face was scratched up and bloody… but it was angry. And much too familiar.   
  
He raised his gauntlet up to the camera, and fired.   
  
Bruce paused on the flash of white. “That’s where it ends,” he explained neutrally. “He did send us the file, however. Said it should serve as a reminder for what happens when you betray him. You ask me, it was overkill. But hell, Tony Stark’s nothing if not extra.”   
  
“Bruce,” Steve murmured warningly.   
  
“Sorry. You okay? Ready for the next one?”   
  
Tony watched the whole sickening thing, his stomach turning.  He tried to keep himself together, not focus on the deadly, soulless stare coming from his own eyes.   
  
Nope. He wasn’t ready.   
  
Tony stood abruptly and only got as far as the wall before he bent over and threw up, bile and the contents of whatever he ate in the other reality splashing on the floor. He gagged and coughed, his body shaking. His head swam, dizziness wreaking havoc on his vision for a moment.

Steve immediately shot up. “Tony?!”

He rushed over to him, but he was hesitant to touch him. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be touched. God, he hadn’t taken it well… not at all…   
  
Bruce blinked, looking vaguely surprised. “Oh…”   
  
He cleared his throat and pulled out his walkie talkie. “Can, uh, can I get a cleanup in the lab? ASAP? Before it gets into the computers would be great, uh… yeah. Over.”   
  
Bruce tucked the device back into his lab coat, looking at Tony with concern. “Sorry… I didn’t know you’d have such a violent reaction.”   
  
Steve gently touched his back, eyes bright with worry. “Tony?”   
  
Tony coughed again and swiped his arm across his mouth.  “I’m fine,” he rasped, trying to convince himself more than anyone else.  Standing up straight, he still looked pale, sweating from exertion as well.  He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, trying to ground himself. Those terrible images still lingered on the back of his eyelids.   
  
Steve smoothed his hand reassuringly over Tony’s back. “It’s all in the past,” he told him softly. “That wasn’t you.”   
  
He looked down, a twinge of sadness in his voice. “That’s an enemy.  I’m sorry that we dragged you into this.”

Tony wanted to hug him, hold him tightly and just use that embrace to feel better again, but he knew that their newfound relationship or whatever it was wouldn’t fly well.  He nodded, taking in a deep breath through his nose.

“I haven’t eaten since I’ve been here,” he murmured.  “How about a break and then we’ll get back to it.”   
  
Steve nodded, helping to guide him out of the room. “Mess hall is just a few floors above us,” he told him, trying to keep the worry in his voice in check.   
  
Bruce was already looking at him in mild concern, which was his version of slightly suspicious. The Avengers knew how much Tony had meant to Steve. It was one of the reasons why they agreed he should be the one to guard and watch him, as long as he didn’t get emotionally involved. Steve had already broke that one stipulation… but at the moment, he couldn’t care about the state of his own heart. He was concerned with the pallor of Tony’s skin. “You really do look sick,” Steve commented quietly. “We can go to the hospital floors if you need to.”   
  
Tony shook his head, the sweat starting to dry on his face and neck.  “Nah. I just need something to eat.”  _ And to never see that video again. _

Instead he focused on memorizing the paths they walked, trying to get a feel for the layout.

Thankfully, the mess was fairly empty by the time they got there, most people at their workstations until lunch later.  The smell from the kitchen could only be described as  _ bland.  _  Whatever they had there to eat, it was probably just enough to keep them alive.  Tony just hoped it sat well on his stomach.

Steve told him what to get more of and what to steer clear of. He ran a yellow plastic bracelet under a scanner before the distribution machines would activate, giving the super soldier slightly bigger portions in comparison to Tony’s, due to a higher metabolism. Tony was given a blue bracelet, with a delicate bar code slightly raised over his wrist.  “It has your recommended calorie intake per height and weight, so the machines know how much to give you calorie-wise,” Steve explained. “You’re going to be hungry before lunch, but it’s designed to get you to the next meal.”   
  
“Efficient,” Tony murmured, getting what Steve recommended on his tray before heading to a table to take a seat.  

He took his spoon and pulled up some of what he could only call gruel, shoveling it into his mouth dutifully.  Steve ate beside him in silence. It wasn’t exactly a comfortable kind of quiet, but neither of them felt pressured to talk.  It was almost nice, for a time, if they forgot where they were.

Finally, Steve finished his meal off with a swallow of water and sighed, resting his elbow on the table. “We can do something else.  We don’t  _ have _ to go back to the lab right away.”

Tony glanced at Steve.  “Like what?” he asked, a tension to his shoulders.

Steve hesitated for a moment at the wary look in his gaze… then he made a face and lowered his eyes. “Maybe something to get your mind off things, just for a little bit,” he replied. “You miss things when you’re stressed.”   
  
Tony’s expression softened a bit. He wasn’t wrong.  “Yeah, I’d like that,” he murmured to Steve, giving him a hint of a smile. It seemed Steve needed him as much as he needed Steve, and it was nice to be needed that way instead of just as the brains.   
  
Steve looked down almost shyly, a few butterflies coming to life in his stomach.  “Well… maybe we can go to the agricultural floor. It’s not exactly a walk in a garden but it’s the closest thing,” he offered. “I think you might actually find it interesting, what they’ve come up with in terms of growing food. I know I was impressed.”

“Yeah.  Sounds great,” Tony agreed, standing, taking his tray to the area he noted others had taken theirs. He followed their lead with sorting dishes into dirty piles to be cleaned and then standing, waiting for Steve.

Steve bit his lip, hiding a shy smile as he led Tony back to the elevator.


	4. Hydroponics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut. Sweet, intense, emotional smut, with a brief interruption by an unexpected guest.

The pair ascended higher into the complex, past floors and floors of bright hallways and fluorescent lighting. People moved to and fro, doing the same jobs they had for years, almost like robots under the glaring lights. For a while, all Tony saw beyond the elevator cage were rows of doors.   Tony was really starting to wonder how extensive this underground labryinth was. He followed Steve, glancing in interest through doors and passages when he could. What did they _ use _ all this space for?   
  
Then, all at once, the blaring fluorescents vanished into a cool, blue-violet glow, and Steve opened the elevator cage, it was like stepping out onto an alien planet. The soft drip of pooling water met their ears; each pool of clear water fed a tall rack, layered like shelves and sprouting countless tiny green plants all the way up to the ceiling.   
  
“As you might imagine, there isn’t a lot of sunlight to go around,” Steve explained, smiling. He always enjoyed the soft, unearthly amethyst-colored light of the agriculture floors. “But we make do.”   
  
“Hydroponics. Nice,” Tony commented, smiling a bit as he inspected their set-up a little more closely.

Steve smiled softly up at the shelves of plants, his lashes lowered at half mast as he gently touched one of the newborn greens. His naked, callused fingertips trailed gingerly across the young leaves, almost like he was afraid to break it.  “They’re called dim sum units,” he smirked in amusement. “At first they were simulation sunlight, then sim sun, then dim sum and that one stuck. It’s stupid, but I kinda like it. People can come up here to get some vitamin D when they need it…”

Tony chuckled at the name, moving closer.  A smile on Steve’s face, the lighting blessing him with a bit more life in eyes… it just left Tony a little breathless.  He couldn’t help but gaze at his features, taking them all in. He liked seeing him happy. Moving in, he put his hands on Steve’s waist and tilted his head to kiss him softly. It was a gentle, sweet moment, stolen away among the plants and away from prying eyes.

Steve caught his breath for a moment, startled by the soft press of warm lips against his…

Then, he slowly melted against him.  His hand gently gripped the back of Tony’s neck, deepening the kiss and holding him close.  He never wanted to be apart from him again. He really didn’t. Maybe this…  _ whatever _ this was, whatever this was turning into… maybe it wouldn’t have a happy ending.  But for now, the swoop of happiness he felt was worth any price.   
  
He sighed happily against Tony’s mouth.  This kiss was soft and chaste, so different from their first one… until finally, they had to separate for air.   
  
Steve smiled against his lips, stealing another small kiss.  “What brought that on?” he murmured.   
  
Tony smiled, his face softer, less lined with worry at the moment. He looked younger. “I like it when you’re happy,” Tony shrugged slightly. “And you look good in this lighting. I should look into fixing the lights in this place so everyone doesn’t look half-dead.”

Steve beamed down at him, his fingers coming up to run through Tony’s hair. “You don’t look so bad yourself…” he murmured.

He gently pressed his lips against Tony’s, once, then twice… then leaned into a third one, eyes falling closed as he gently gripped the back of Tony’s neck. “The lights are terrible, really. I’m sure you could do something much better with them,” he breathed quietly between kisses.   
  
“I’ll take that challenge,” Tony joked lightly, his hands moving from his hips to wrap around his waist and pull him closer, hugging Steve to him.  His kisses revived him, making him forget his problems and the trouble that lie ahead. 

“Can we play hooky for the rest of the day?” he almost begged, deepening the kiss.

Steve smiled against his lips, leaning into the kiss all too willingly.  “I thought you wanted to work?” he murmured, cupping his cheek. “Besides, where would we go?”

Tony gave him a slightly sheepish smirk at his change of mind. “It’s nice here. Or your place is… alright,” he somewhat lied. It was claustrophobic and plain, except for the paintings. But it was private.   
  
Steve sighed, cupped Tony’s face affectionately, and kissed him gently again. “I admit, it’s tempting…” he murmured.   
  
His blue eyes glimmered happily down at him. “I like you  _ so _ much,” he sighed, resting his forehead against him. “Will you talk more? I can’t believe I’m saying that. I just like you. I like the sound of your voice…”   
  
Tony’s heart fluttered in his chest at Steve’s hopeful words. “What do you want me to say?” he asked, nuzzling his nose. God, he was falling hard and deep. Maybe he had been before and he had never realized it. If Steve wanted him to tell him he loved him, he just might….   
  
“Just… anything.”   
  
Steve’s amused expression faded into something sweet and soft and lovesick, gently pressing his lips against the corner of Tony’s mouth.  He smiled longingly down at him, closing his eyes.   
  
He gently pulled Tony behind one of the units, where they would be out of direct line of sight, and rested his forehead down against Tony’s shoulder.  “Talk about… nanotechnology, or alloys, or dumb people that bothered you today… You talk so much unprompted, just babble. I can’t guarantee I’ll listen.  But I like your voice…”   
  
Tony smiled at what Steve suggested, sitting on the ground behind the unit with Steve snuggling against him. He started talking about his ideas for softer lighting where the facility allowed, actually saving power usage. He spoke about how they should really get some herbs down there to liven up the food a bit. Then he moved on to another topic of conversation. “You should paint murals when time allows. Your work is good,” he smiled at Steve. “I’m sure that would do a lot of good for this place.”   
  
Steve glanced up at him at that, his blue eyes glazed slightly with affection behind surprise. “You saw my work? I… Heh. I didn’t think you noticed at all,” he murmured.   
  
He snuggled back into his shoulder. “It’s just a hobby. I don’t really do murals…”   
  
Tony’s lip twitched up in a smirk, resting his head against Steve’s. “You should. Really, anything would brighten this place up. They’d be lucky to have your work.” He turned his head, his nose pressing against Steve’s hair and he kissed his head softly, inhaling the dusky scent of his pheromones.   
  
Steve smiled faintly against Tony’s shoulder.  Oh, how he wished they could just _ stay _ like this…   
  
“When you go back, tell him,” Steve whispered contentedly, wrapping his arm around Tony to hold him closer. “Tell him. I’m sure he doesn’t really think he’s all that good either.”   
  
Tony felt himself deflate.  The thought of going back.... He didn’t want to leave this Steve to this existence. But they both knew it would eventually end that way.   
  
“I will,” Tony promised, pressing a kiss to Steve’s temple. His own arms hugged him just a little closer.

“Good…” Steve sighed, melting into the hug.

They rested there in silence for a few minutes, just listening to each other’s hearts and the rise and fall of their chests as the seconds ticked by.  The super soldier’s fingers dug into his back, holding the man even closer. That familiar scent, the touch of his skin…    
  
Their uninterrupted silence was peaceful. Just the drip of water on the plants and the slight hum of electricity. And then Steve’s deep breaths and the way his heart thumped. Tony could feel his heartbeat in him. His rhythm might have even been setting his own.

Steve blinked slowly… then he sat up, looking into Tony’s eyes.  He just wanted to lose himself again. He wanted to lose track of where his body ended and Tony’s began.  He pulled the man flush with his chest, kissing him slow and hard, hoping that his lover could feel his need.

Tony moaned with need into Steve’s mouth, a deep ache in his chest. All at once he needed him like he needed  _ air,  _ and yet, if he were a stronger man he’d push him away, not because he didn’t want this, but because he wanted it  _ too much. _ Every moment was a second nearer to parting, the unrelenting passage of time weighing upon them like a ten-ton block of cold steel. It was brutal in such a sweet, beautiful moment, like a flower growing through a crack in the concrete. Delicate but vibrant, so full of life, when it would be inevitably plucked or stomped on.  He wasn’t strong enough to stop. Tony just wanted to make-believe everything was alright for the moment. And if it could give Steve a shred of happiness in this cold world, then he didn’t want to stop. He kissed Steve back passionately, desperately, just  _ needing _ to be with him.   
  
Steve sighed, almost in relief.  It took a few minutes for him to gather the strength to pull away, tugging the smaller man into his lap and kissing him until he couldn’t think… until he could barely  _ breathe… _   
  
Finally, he sucked in a breath, stealing the air briefly from Tony’s lungs and leaning in again to claim his lips before he managed to stop.  Steve panted, chest so filled with desire that he could hardly register anything else around him…

Tony finally gasped in a breath he sorely needed, flushed from exertion.  

Their eyes met.

“Can I–?” the super soldier breathed.  Tony’s belt buckle strained under his fingers, almost bent out of shape.   _ “Please. _  Please.”

Tony groaned as he felt Steve’s fingers run over the fabric restraining his cock back.  He nodded emphatically. “Yes,” he answered, his hands cupping Steve’s face as he kissed him again. “Do it,” he added, breathing heavily before diving back in to suck and nip at his neck.

Tony felt his leather belt strain and snap, cast aside along the rocks with an echoing rattle.

Steve groaned quietly, opening his lover’s pants hastily and taking hold of the slowly awakening cock that he remembered so keenly.  Despite his throbbing lungs and desperate need to be closer, he could somehow hold himself back enough to move his hand along Tony’s shaft like he knew he liked, taking the time to play with the sensitive patch of nerves just under the head.  He bit his lip, letting his head fall forward.   
  
“Tony…” he panted.  _  I love you.  I’ve always loved you… _   
  
Steve made short work of Tony’s pants and briefs, pulling them down to his knees and yanking his lover into his lap.  He tried to be gentle… but his need was bleeding through now, his hard cock burrowing up against the fabric that separated him from that plush ass.  God, he remembered what it was like to _ fuck  _ Tony and now every second was agony…

A strangled gasp left Tony’s lips as Steve began massaging just under the head of his cock, a bit of precum oozing out of its own accord. He leaned into Steve’s touch and moaned, growing harder as Steve hoisted him into his lap, feeling the press of his cock against his ass through the fabric. He ground his hips against him, aching for more.

_ "Fuck me, Steve,”  _ Tony moaned, his back arching as he tried to stimulate himself against his pants. He reached back, trying to blindly undo Steve’s belt to free him. His fingers slid under his shirt and became distracted as he felt the grooves on his taut skin. God, he just needed to feel Steve, to have their skin touching.

More than anything Steve wished he had two hands…!

The super soldier sucked in a breath and forced himself to let go of Tony’s waist, reaching down to help him with his belt.  It didn’t take long to free his erection, the hot, hard, twitching organ pulling at the muscles in his lower abdomen somewhere between the border of torture and pleasure.  He groaned deep in his chest, abs rippling with strain. He could feel the warmth from Tony’s core, the man’s soft, plush ass still open from their escapades the night before.  Last night, he’d only pushed his fingers into him, searching for those familiar pleasure centers… but now…   
  
Steve pushed Tony’s shirt up to his shoulders and pressed a warm, hungry kiss to his shoulder blades, breath washing over his skin as he lifted him…    
  
The tip of his cock pressed against his entrance.     
  
Then carefully, tenderly, Steve pulled him back down, a gasp practically punched from his lungs as he felt Tony spread wide around his girth, those warm inner walls rough and fluttering with every inch he sunk in deeper.  He quickly reached forward to grab Tony’s thigh and pull it up to his chest, angling his body just so that he could reach…!   
  
There it was.   
  
He felt that soft, walnut-sized gland inside Tony swell against his shaft as he pushed inside him, dragging past that glorious pleasure center and moving deeper.  _  Deeper.   _ Where he  _ wanted _ to be…   
  
Finally, Steve’s balls rested against his ass, and both man gasped for air, struggling to stay silent in the echoing cave.

_ Bliss. _ This had to be what bliss was like.

Suddenly the place they were had no meaning. Tony could have been in a penthouse or behind a dumpster, it didn’t matter. He was with Steve. And oh, how he _ felt _ inside him….   
  
Tony inhaled a deep breath, his eyes wide but unseeing as he tried to hold back the tide.   
  
When he had recovered enough that he knew he could hold his orgasm back, Tony relaxed back against Steve’s chest, turning his head to press kisses along his neck, his vision pale and dazzled at the edges. He sucked and nibbled, tasting the soldier while his cock throbbed in front of him. But his hands stayed away from touching himself, instead running along Steve’s thighs and reaching to squeeze his ass as best he could.   
  
Steve sucked in a breath, unconsciously looking around to see if anyone was close by. There was nothing he could do about the breathless moans that were escaping him. “Tony…”   
  
He squeezed his thigh breathlessly, pulling him against his body even tighter. The stretch and press against those sensitive nerves shifted, sliding past Tony’s prostate and sending fireworks of pleasure shooting up through his cock. Steve groaned, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into the man’s fervent kisses, silently pleading for more.   
  
He started to rock his hips. Slow at first, just enough to start getting that friction that his body craved… He knew he tasted like pheromones and sweat, skin and heat, the scratch of Tony’s facial hair stimulating the sensitive skin at his throat.   
  
Steve’s hips jerked unconsciously, bouncing Tony in his lap. “A-Ah…!”

His name gasped from Steve’s lips sent shivers up his spine; Tony pressed his lips tightly against Steve’s skin to keep from crying out.  _ “Steve…!” _

Steve panted sharply against Tony’s hair, head falling back for a moment. “A-Ah…”

He swallowed and let go of Tony’s thigh, stripping off his shirt. He spread it over the rocky floor and rolled them both over.  Before he could realize what had happened, Tony was on his hands and knees. He felt soft fabric under his knees and fingertips, realizing Steve had put his own shirt down so Tony would be comfortable. He was genuinely touched, his heart fluttering in his chest. 

Steve breathed into the defined lines of Tony’s muscular back, thighs clenched as he rolled his hips into him…

The slow drag and pull of Tony’s core was the sweetest torture he could ever imagine. Steve groaned into the man’s back and pushed his fingers into Tony’s hair, gripping that short, soft, dark brown hair by the roots as he took him slow and hard from behind. The clap of flesh on flesh was almost obscenely loud against the walls of the cave as Steve breathed erratically against warm, sweat-salty skin.   
  
“Mm… hah…”

“Ohhhhh, fuck, Steve, a-ahhh, yes!” Tony groaned, his voice a bit louder as he cried out with abandon. He arched his back to let Steve hit in just the right place over and over…. The way Steve tugged on his hair made him want to cum so  _ hard. _

Steve tried to keep his bad arm at his side, making his best attempt not to touch him with the dull edge. He nipped and kissed a trail up Tony’s spine, breathing hard as he finally found that sensation he’d been seeking after… Slow, rough friction at the core of the person he loved most. His rhythm eased, contented and pleased sounds pushed from his chest with each roll of his hips. Through the haze of pleasure, he made it a challenge to drag slowly across Tony’s prostate every time, whispering praise and compliments under his breath as time passed.

Ten minutes… twenty minutes… Their slow, intimate fucking bled into a sea of warmth and pleasure, Steve’s limbs unconsciously giving out to push Tony all the way to the ground. He sucked in a breath and pulled out, just long enough to take off the rest of Tony’s clothes and roll him onto his back. He pushed his cock back inside and wrapped the man’s thighs around his waist, kissing him breathlessly as they resumed.

Every touch sent tingles down Tony’s spine and through his limbs, making him moan wantonly.  Steve was _ amazing _ at this, keeping him at a high point of ecstasy right before his climax could crash over.  He gasped things he wasn’t even sure if he had said or not, not remembering most of his spilled words.  

Tony’s calloused hands ran over Steve’s chest, glad for the intimacy.  “You’re perfect,” he murmured against Steve’s lips, his legs tightening around the soldier’s hips, hands running over his shoulders and his fingers lightly touching where Steve’s arm stopped abruptly.  He wanted him to know that it didn’t bother him at all. He was still  _ wonderful. _

Steve shivered, pleasure and sensitivity thrilling up his spine. He let out a shaky, almost overwhelmed sound against Tony’s lips, looking down at him through his lashes.

“You don’t…?”   
  
_ You don’t mind it? _ he wanted to ask. There were reasons why he didn’t wear a prosthetic, all of them personal and all of them unjustifiable by the laws of practicality. He just couldn’t bear to try and replace what he had lost. Nothing would measure up. He didn’t even care to try, not when he didn’t have to…   
  
But now he had something — _ someone _ — back. Maybe he couldn’t keep him… but in that moment, Steve felt a little more whole.

“You’re perfect,” Tony repeated, brown eyes locked with blue. It was the closest he would come to saying what he really meant. I love you. Tony always had trouble expressing his feelings verbally, but he tried to physically.

They were frozen in that moment, gazing into each other’s eyes. It just turned Tony on more. The deep connection they had was better than _ anything _ Tony could have imagined. Then suddenly his hands were threaded in those golden locks above him and he was tugging Steve down.

Steve gasped against Tony’s lips just before their mouths locked again, tongues sliding warmly against one another as he pushed his hand underneath Tony and lifted almost all of his body weight with one hand. Staying inside him, Steve felt the angle, the heat, the tightness shift as his cock rubbed brutally up against Tony’s prostate. His shaft bent slightly, yanking a gasp and a muffled cry of sensation from both of them as fireworks burst behind their eyes. Steve moaned, deep and long, like some animal in heat…

He settled Tony into his lap and began to inter his final throes. He could barely tell it was happening, through a haze of coital bliss that left him breathless, feeling like he wasn’t experiencing this from just one body. For the past ten minutes, he couldn’t tell where his body ended and where Tony’s started. Blue eyes locked with pleasure-drowned brown as he fucked him fast and hard. He never looked away. He didn’t want to miss a  _ second. _   
  
Then suddenly, he felt the pressure give in his lower belly. His balls clenched.   
  
Steve gasped in surprise as his abs tightened and fluttered, eyes falling shut of their own accord as a sea of endorphins swamped him. “Tony—!”

Tony shuddered and came  _ hard _ between them, warm blooming in his core.  “Ohhh, Steve...” he purred, his lips and tongue claiming his mouth once more, hips bucking against his as he rode out his orgasm.

Steve beamed down at him, his lopsided grin positively glowing in the light from the hydroponics. “Thank you…” he whispered.

His goofy smile and that goddamn ‘thank you’ pushed Tony over the edge of euphoric happiness.  He beamed down at Steve. “‘Thank you’? You’re so gosh darn polite,” he teased, a grin of his own plastered on his face.

Steve gently held the side of Tony’s face, fingers running through his hair as he kissed him tenderly one last time.  The brunet returned the kiss with a slow-burning passion, every move deliberate in its gentleness.

“You ready for me to come out? Or do you want me to stay inside for a little bit…?” Steve asked quietly.

Tony scrunched his lips to the side as he considered it. “Stay,” he decided, even if his ass could use the break. He just didn’t want to part from Steve so soon, as if the slight distance might leave him feeling hollow again.

Steve chuckled breathlessly, sliding his arm around Tony and effortlessly pulling him up off the ground to nestle him in his lap. “Yes sir.”

He pressed a soft kiss into the man’s neck and smiled to himself, slow, subtle movement rocking Tony just enough to remind him how deep his cock was nestled, but not enough to agitate himself further.  He let his eyes fall shut, forehead resting against Tony’s shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere…” he murmured quietly. “We can stay here for a while…”

Tony hummed satedly, his arms wrapping around Steve’s back and tracing lazy swirls into his skin. He leaned in, his lips pressing open-mouth kisses against his neck affectionately; he just wanted to stay wrapped up in his lover... as long as they could get away with...

The minutes passed like warm molasses, slow and comforting and sweet in each other’s arms.  Steve felt so  _ light.  _  Lighter than he had in a long, long time, trading gentle kisses with his Tony until boneless bliss persuaded him to lay them down on the remains of their clothes, hopelessly entangled and heartbeats practically merged.  He just didn’t want the moment to end…

Then, he actually caught sight of the edge of his shirt.  It was ripped up in places from the rocks, stained with dirt and spattered with white.   
  
“Oh dear…” Steve mumbled, brows furrowing.

In the haze of bliss, it took Tony a couple of seconds to realize that Steve was perturbed about something. “Hmm?” he asked lazily, catching Steve’s look and following his gaze to…

“Shit,” Tony muttered.  _ That  _ wasn’t incriminating at all. “Is it just that shirt?” he asked, trying to look around at the rest of the clothes.

“Probably not…” Steve muttered, groaning and rubbing the lines between his brows.  “God, how are we getting out of this one? Are we getting out of this one? We can’t even use the water here to clean ourselves up.   _ Damn  _ it all, I didn’t think this through…”

Reluctantly, Tony pulled himself off of Steve so they could get a better grip on the situation. “Hey, we both weren’t thinking. And I’m not ashamed of that. I’m glad this happened,” Tony told him, his hands cupping either side of his face, one thumb rubbing soothing circles against Steve’s face. “And I really don’t give a damn what they think of me. Can’t ruin my reputation anymore than it already has been. But I am worried about this affecting you,” he said, his brows furrowed a bit.

Tony glanced around, looking for a possible solution. He sighed and hung his head when he reached one possible idea. “Hit me,” he said, squaring his shoulders a bit.

Steve stared at him in disbelief.  “What?”

Tony sighed and sat back on his heels. “If it looks like we got into a scuffle, no one will suspect anything. We just have to rub the clothes in a bit more dirt to hide the white stains. And me punching you wouldn’t leave a mark on your face, but I’d definitely look worse for wear, so hit me.” He stiffened his form as he waited for the blow.   
  
Steve’s mouth popped open, visibly offended and appalled by even the suggestion.  “Tony! I’m not going to hit you!! I’d get in more trouble for that than _ sleeping  _ with you!  I’d rather people think that I slept with you…”   
  
He gazed down at him pleadingly, gently pressing his dirty, callused palm against Tony’s cheek.  “They already knew that I loved Tony Stark. Maybe they think I’m coping, and they won’t even mention it… but I’m not going to hit you.  Don’t ask me to do that…”   
  
Tony nodded, not mentioning it again. He pressed his forehead against the other’s, still locking their gazes. “Then let them know. I probably wouldn’t be able to hide it for long anyway,” he admitted, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.   
  
He stood up and held his hand out for Steve to take. “Better now than never,” he shrugged, smirking a little.   
  
Steve took his hand, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead back against Tony’s.  His brows furrowed in worry. “You’re such a jerk…” he whispered against the man’s lips.   
  
Tony grinned, returning the kiss. “Absolutely,” he teased. His fingers moved up to smooth out Steve’s wrinkled brow. “Or you can try wearing the clothes that are salvageable and I’ll wait here for you to bring more clothes.”   
  
Steve snorted halfheartedly at the ridiculousness of that mental picture.  “You’d be sitting here naked for twenty minutes.”   
  
Tony shrugged. “I’ve been naked longer,” he winked. “Go on. Not sure if my clothes will fit you, but they  _ were _ pretty baggy.” He started picking up clothing that wasn’t dirty and handing it to Steve. He then took the one ruined shirt and found a semi-clean patch, wiping Steve’s abdomen and cleaning him up before he worked on cleaning himself up as best he could.   
  
Steve sucked in a breath, awkwardly trying to avoid his eyes when it was painfully apparent that he was still erect.   
  
He cleared his throat and accepted the clothes.  “Thanks…”   
  
Tony smirked and placed a kiss on Steve’s jawline. “Need another go?” he murmured, wiggling his fingers to give Steve the idea. He needed a break, but he’d be happy to help Steve out.   
  
Steve snorted and shook his head.  “No… I appreciate it but this thing’s like a dog,” he confessed, standing up and struggling to slip Tony’s shirt over his head.  It might have been baggy on the smaller man, but it fit him like a glove if it fit at  _ all. _  “Give it an inch, it’ll take a mile.  I’ve actually–”   
  
He cleared his throat, almost embarrassed.  “I’ve actually tested it. My refractory period is practically nonexistent.”   
  
Tony arched a brow, a slight smirk on his lips. He absent-mindedly ran his tongue over his lips, looking down at Steve’s cock before looking back up. “I’d love to see that. See how many times I can make you cum,” he whispered in a sultry voice.

Steve couldn’t help but smirk a little at that, blush rushing in his cheeks as he glanced down at Tony’s nude form.  “Don’t you even start,” he scolded him quietly. “You stay hidden, okay? I’ll be back.”   
  
He pulled up the bottom half of his dirty jumpsuit, zipped it up, and rubbed more dirt into the soiled areas to help it blend.  Dusty, dirty agriculture workers weren’t an uncommon sight. With all the eyes in the compound that were cast down, maybe he wouldn’t even be noticed… even if his broad shoulders and muscular structure were stretching Tony’s shirt to fit him like a second skin.  He leaned down, capturing Tony’s lips one last time, and walked over to the elevator.   
  
The cage closed – out of sight beyond the hydroponics unit – and Tony heard the elevator start to descend… rumbling quietly on metal chains.   
  
And then, he was alone in the alien blue-violet lights, young ultra-green plants his only company.   
  
Tony sighed and took a seat on an overturned milk carton box, lazily looking at the plants around him.     
  
“… So.”

Out of instinct, Tony casually crossed a leg over the other, his hands holding his higher knee.

A familiar sigh echoed quietly from across the room, sounding more resigned than anything.  “Cap’s back at it again,” Natasha murmured, stepping out from the shadows with a wince, favoring her right leg.  “That didn’t take long.”   
  
The ex-assassin leaned against the rock wall, eyes glimmering in the eerie cave.  She left Tony a bit of cover, choosing to look at him through the young plants and not around them.  Her dark red hair was cut short, the threads of silver at her temples left to grow, luxuries like dyes and product unavailable underground.  She didn’t move with the same litheness that the Natasha of his reality did. She moved stiffly, a small, but noticeable voluntary effort behind each movement, like even moving her hands required a conscious thought.  She might have only been a few years older than the older Natasha, but this one just felt so much older… eyes and face aged by pain.   
  
“Enjoy the show?” Tony replied, both eyebrows raised as if he truly wanted to know.  In truth, he was a bit irked that anyone had stumbled in on their moment, but it was already done.  No use griping about it.

“I only caught the ass end of it,” Natasha remarked dully.  “Thanks, I’m scarred for life.”   
  
Tony snorted. “Which ass exactly?”   
  
He stared at her through the plants and frowned a little. “What does this mean for him? Is his life going to get worse around here because of me?” he asked seriously, his shoulders tensing. God, that was the  _ last _ thing he wanted for Steve. The guy didn’t need more trouble.

Natasha was quiet for a long time… almost to the point where it seemed like she wasn’t going to answer.   
  
But then, she shook her head.  “No. It’s not,” she murmured. “Because I’m not going to tell anyone.  Steve deserves some happiness, even if it’s coming from you.”   
  
Her tired green eyes flickered over to the opposite wall, her heart weighing like a lump of iron in her chest.  She could hardly bear to look at him. She had been kept in the loop. She knew it wasn’t the Tony Stark that had cracked her spine like a toothpick… but it was at times like these that only her faith in Steve Rogers pulled her through.  She had known Steve for a long time. She knew how much this meant to him, to keep this secret, to let them steal some intimacy from each other where they could finally find it again…   
  
“I’m not going to take that away from him.”   
  
Tony let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He gave her a nod in return, not thanking her further. He didn’t want to provoke her ire in thinking he was thanking her for himself. No, he only worried about Steve.   
  
“For what it’s worth,” Tony said after what seemed like an eon of silence, “and I doubt it’s worth much if anything coming from me… but, I’m sorry.”   
  
Natasha wordlessly glanced in his direction, analyzing his expression for a long moment.   
  
Then she turned her head fully to face him, brows low over her intense green eyes.  “Don’t hurt Steve. Shut down Ultron. I never knew our Stark that well, but I’ve heard a lot about you secondhand and you’re capable enough to help us if you don’t screw us over _. _ ”

“That’s my intention,” Tony replied deadpan. What else could he do but try to help? Even if he didn’t want to, he’d never get back to his reality otherwise. But he did want to. He wanted to make things better.

She crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze wandering over the plants.  “I do have one question for you, though.”   
  
Tony raised a brow. “Yeah?”   
  
Natasha licked her lips almost nervously, the worry line between her brows digging even deeper into her forehead.   
  
“What do you think… happened?”   
  
She sighed and looked down, trying to rub out the worry lines in her forehead.  “You know his head better than anyone. It’s your head. What… happened? Was it… paranoia?  Or PTSD? Or something that was always there that just got out of hand? Isn’t there… There’s gotta be a way to fix it without killing him.  There  _ has _ to be.”   
  
Tony’s brow furrowed deeply at that and sighed. Even after everything, she didn’t want the other him dead. She was a better person than he was.   
  
“Could have been any of it,” he murmured. “I don’t quite have enough of the pieces to figure it out exactly.” Hell, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to. What if he was heading down the same path?   
  
Nonetheless, he looked down, thinking about it. What  _ would _ cause him to go off the deep end so completely? 

And then he had his answer.

“He lacked trust in the people closest to him,” Tony answered, his brown eyes glazing into a thousand yard stare as he replayed the tapes he had seen and his own experiences. “He was betrayed, so he went on to protect himself, and the world, or so he thinks.” His own trust had taken a heavy toll back in his own reality, but maybe a shred of him held onto hope. It was why he carried the old flip-phone Steve gave him, just in case. This Tony must have never kept that hope. He wondered if having a relationship with Steve had anything to do with that. The betrayal of not just choosing a friend over a friend, but a friend over a lover… that might have made all the difference. He shut his eyes tightly, not wanting to consider that. He never wanted Steve to know that he might have caused this in some way. It wasn’t his fault.

For a few seconds, the cave was silent but for the hum of the machines…

“Is there any way to get him to see reason?” Natasha murmured softly.  “That he never meant to…?”   
  
She trailed off, lowering her gaze.  She already knew the answer.   
  
“Never mind…”   
  
Tony continued to stare at the spot on the ground, unblinking. He heard her. He wished he could reassure her. He wished he could tell her it was possible. But he knew himself better than that.   
  
“You better go unless you want to give Steve a heart attack,” he mumbled, finally blinking and looking away. He grabbed the ruined T-shirt and balled it up in his hands, not really thinking of what to do with it. No, he had just needed something to fix. And that was all he could do at that moment.   
  
Natasha moved off the wall, grimacing as she slowly, painfully made her way towards the lift.  She pressed down the button to call it, lingering there in the silence…   
  
Then, just as the elevator clattered up to the floor, she turned her head, speaking just loud enough for Tony to hear.   
  
“You could stay.  Once he’s gone, you could take his place.  Make things better.”   
  
Tony sucked in a breath. He could. Would his other reality really be that worse for wear without him? Did it even matter in the grand scheme of things? He could do a lot of good here. Probably. 

…Maybe.

He didn’t answer Natasha. He just listened as the elevator doors creaked open and the uneven steps crunched on gravel and then thumped heavily on metal.

“Just… give it some thought,” she murmured.

Finally, the cage rattled shut, and the elevator went down.   
  
Long minutes passed in the warm cave, leaving Tony alone in the eerie lights, the soft sound of the units, and the slow drip of water off the stalactites and into the pools.  The elevator moved up… then back down again… but no one stepped out.   
  
Finally, Tony heard the metallic clatter of the elevator stopping on his floor.     
  
The cage clashed open, familiar boots moving stealthily across the gravel.  Steve approached the dim sum unit that his lover hid behind, gave a quick glance around, and circled it, crouching down beside him.  He offered him a small pile of clothes. “Here,” he whispered. “I managed to bribe a few more things from the laundry room. They’re a little big for you, but they’ll do.”   
  
Tony couldn’t help but smile softly when Steve handed him the clothing. “Did you get another shirt too that you won’t flex apart?” he asked with a smirk, knowing his shirt had been way too small. He started donning the fresh clothes and noticed they were fairly baggy. He probably looked like a hobo. But hey, at least it was comfortable. “Thanks.”

Steve smiled affectionately down at him, a faint blush rising to his cheeks at the sight of Tony in soft, overlarge clothing.  He chuckled and wrapped his arm around his lover, hugging him gently. “I did. And you’re welcome…” he murmured.

He grinned to himself, almost giddy with the feeling of his beloved swimming in warm fabric.   
  
Tony caught his expression and glanced down. “Huh, so this is what does it for you? Not the expensive clothing?” he teased.  If it made Steve happy, he was happy. “We should probably get back before they think I made a run for it.”   
  
Steve beamed up at him, squeezing him playfully.  “Oh, I would _ never _ let you make a run for it.  By all means, try it~”   
  
He teasingly slid his calloused hand up Tony’s back, his voice rough and tender as he kissed his neck.  “I won’t let you get away…”   
  
Tony almost  _ giggled, _ Steve’s playfulness contagious. “We really should go before we ruin another set of clothes,” he murmured, nipping at Steve’s ear slightly and pressing a kiss to the spot just under it.   
  
Steve sighed quietly, leaning hungrily into his touch. “Later,” he promised.   
  
He stole a long, tender kiss from Tony’s lips. His fingers slipped softly into the man’s short, dark hair, gently tangling in the ends of those warm curls, like he could hardly bear to be apart from him…   
  
When they finally separated, it was with a small sigh of longing. Steve quickly pressed his lips against Tony’s cheek, smiling bittersweetly. “I guess you should go back to the lab. I’ll be in the gym if you need me before then. Okay?”   
  
Tony nodded. He was starting to get his bearings, so he should be able to find his way around. “See ya, handsome,” he winked, moving to the elevator before they ended up going another round.   
  
After a short ride with Steve getting off on a different floor, Tony headed back to the lab, finding Bruce there. “I’m better now,” he said confidently. “Shall we continue with the videos?” he suggested.   
  
Bruce looked puzzledly at him. “Isn’t Steve supposed to be accompanying you? Where’d he go?”   
  
“He was tired. Took a break.”   
  
Both men glanced around as Natasha made herself known, the ex-assassin sitting in the shadows as she always did. She glanced knowingly up at Tony. “I’ll be taking his place for a bit.”   
  
“What she said,” Tony said, sitting down and picking up the notebook he had dropped earlier. “Let’s get through the videos and then I’ll start looking at the code.”

Bruce shrugged good-naturedly. “Alright. I’ll go get the next set.”


	5. Surgery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The arc reactor is successfully removed in preparation for his mission, but then Tony gets some news that cuts his recovery time short.

The next three days underground were a storm of activity. Now that the rumors of Tony’s enlisting had been confirmed, everyone at SHIELD had buckled down on their tasks, making plans and backup plans for what they would do once Ultron was shut down.  In-depth, elaborate step-by-step programs for taking back the world and establishing a better order from the foundations that this world’s Stark had destroyed and built up, which would extend years after Tony was back home. 

Not too surprisingly, Tony made leaps and bounds in assembling a decoding matrix for bypassing Stark Industries’s security protocols.  The future him had ten years to figure out more and more complex code, but his algorithms – like any – had flaws. While SHIELD prepped his surgery, Tony was hard at work during the day and taking his evenings for pleasure, as quietly as Steve could manage.   
  
Being in a secret relationship with him was… incredible.  _  Intense. _  The looks the exchanged in the hallway, his near constant presence, the  _ electricity  _ when they came together after hours…  It was like Steve had been deprived of something vital for over a decade, and was just now remembering what it was like to be in love.  It wasn’t even about _ falling _ in love.  Something between their souls just fit together, perfect, like two lost pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.  Communicating with simple glances became second nature; an old routine that Tony could slip into almost effortlessly.  Concern, happiness, arousal… they barely had to voice anything to each other.   
  
When the morning of Tony’s surgery finally came, Steve’s eyes brimmed with anxiety and unconditional devotion, burning blue in the background.  The last thing Tony could see as the anesthetic slowly took hold…   
  
And pulled him under.   
  
When Tony woke up, his chest was wrapped up like a mummy’s.  Steve was nodding off in an armchair to his left, a small worry line permanently etched between his brows.  The heart monitor beeped slow and steady somewhere behind him. He couldn’t feel the metal socket in his sternum anymore, or his arc reactor.  The familiar weight there was gone, replaced with skin grafts, bone grafts, and stitches.   
  
His heart rate elevated as he saw the bandages wrapping his chest.  Even if the weight was gone, the familiar sight of the wrappings in poor lighting in a dark, cave-like room sent him back to Afghanistan again.  Damn it, he wasn’t  _ there! _  But his anxiety overruled his rational mind and he started to gasp, the heart monitor beeping more wildly.   
  
The sudden sound roused Steve in less than a second. The super soldier sucked in a breath, moving to his side. “Hey! Hey… I’m here…”   
  
He took Tony’s hand, pressing his knuckles to his lips. “It’s okay, baby. Calm down. It’s okay…”

Tony’s pupils were pinpoints as he looked at Steve, his breathing coming out in uneven gasps.  He gripped Steve’s hand, listening to the sound of his voice attempting to soothe him. His pupils slowly started to dilate, his breathing evening out.  “Stupid… cave…” Tony huffed, closing his eyes for a moment before looking back at Steve. His heart rate began to slow down just a bit.

“Hey, don’t hurt yourself. It’s okay…”   
  
Steve cradled his hands, glancing up at him. “I got special permission to install a night light for you. Your arc reactor is yours. You can do whatever you want with it…”   
  
He sighed, lowering Tony’s hands and looking reassuringly into his eyes. “The nano machines are in your system now. You should have increased strength and reaction time… probably better than mine, actually.”

Tony listened to Steve talk as he relaxed slowly, his breathing and heart beat both slower once more. “Only increased strength and reflexes?” he tsked sarcastically, actually a bit overwhelmed by the possibilities there.

His lover gave him a little smile. “They could replicate that much. The suit-up you’re going to have to live without.”   
  
Tony took a deep breath, wincing at the strain of the stitches as he gazed up at the cavernous ceiling.  After so long, he was finally free of the reactor and all its chronic pain… but it didn’t feel like a relief.  So, he changed the subject. “Actually, I have an idea for the reactor,” Tony murmured. “I’ll need a team of workers, preferably those with electrician backgrounds or knowledge. But when I’m done, it should more than make up for their lost man hours.”   
  
Steve looked up at him curiously. “You’d have to talk to Fury, I guess… What are you thinking of doing?”   
  
Looking at Steve, a small smirk played along Tony’s lips. “It’s a surprise,” he told him, not wanting to get his hopes up if he couldn’t get it working. He sat up with a groan, already wanting to go find Fury to get started on it.   
  
“Tony, no, stop…” Steve murmured, pushing gently down on his shoulder.   
  
To his surprise, there was resistance. The super soldier winced slightly, then actually put some pressure on Tony to make him lie back down. The bed groaned in complaint.   
  
He glanced at him worriedly. “Sorry… but you can’t be up and about yet. If your stitches come out there’s no telling what’ll happen.”   
  
Tony was a little confused at first when it seemed like Steve had to actually put some effort in pushing him back down. Huh, he really did have increased strength. He huffed but didn’t argue, just pouting slightly as he didn’t get his way. “Fine, then I want to see Fury. This is simple enough that I can dictate what needs to happen without overseeing it.”   
  
Steve frowned at him, confusion in his eyes… but he huffed and nodded. “Fine.”   
  
He held up a finger. “Under one condition. You stay here and rest. You’ve just been through a twenty hour surgery and you’ll probably break any door you try to open. I’m not going to take any of this ‘I’m fine’ nonsense, you understand?”   
  
Tony sulked, sinking a bit more into the covers like a petulant child. “Fine,” he agreed with another huff. “Go get Fury. And I need my reactor.”

Steve smiled faintly at the look on Tony’s face.  “Okay.”

After a moment, he stood up, leaned over, and cradled the back of Tony’s head, softly slipping his fingers into his short, dark brown hair.  He pressed his lips against his lover’s forehead and looked down at him, eyes glittering with humor and relief. “Stop pouting,” he gently scolded him.  “It’s not a good look on you.”   
  
For that comment, Tony just wanted to glare more, but he couldn’t resist that smile or those blue eyes. He leaned into Steve’s touch. “You’re a jerk,” he commented half-heartedly, mainly just grumpy because whatever pain medication he was on was starting to wear off.   
  
“Don’t be a baby…” Steve murmured, brushing his lips against Tony’s.  He looked at him in a moment of genuine concern. “Will you be okay in here until I get back?”   
  
Tony nodded, seeing the concern there. He wasn’t going back to sleep any moment soon and the slight grumpiness warded off any anxiety he had. “Yeah. Go,” he prompted, but he snuck another kiss before Steve pulled away.   
  
Steve smiled against his lips, squeezed his hand, and left his side, glancing back at him just before he left the cavern.   
  
He passed Bruce in the hall.     
  
The doctor gave him a nod, passing the SHIELD agents that guarded the entrance and pushing aside the curtain.  “Hey, Stark. How you feeling?” he asked, looking over his clipboard. “You’ll be happy to hear that there were no complications.  It should take about three weeks for you to be _ fully  _ healed, but you’re only put down for one week of bed rest… just to make sure everything takes.”   
  
Bruce sighed and sat down.  “Then, we’re going to start briefing you on Stark Industries.  Or, at least everything we’ve been able to get on it. Fury’s hoping to have you home by the end of next month, if everything goes smoothly.”   
  
Tony gave Bruce a tired smile, glad to see him. “I thought you weren’t this type of doctor,” he teased a little.   
  


Bruce chuckled, exhausted.  “I get to wear all kinds of hats down here.”   
  
Tony grinned for a moment, tickled by the playful banter, then remembered why he wanted to see him in the first place and met his eyes.  “Hey, I sent Steve to get a Fury to run a side-project past him while I heal up.”

“Oh?”

“I’d like you to be in charge if you’re up for it. I noticed there were a bunch of LED lamps and such in storage and some of them aren’t that terrible fluorescent white either. I figured we could replace the fluorescents with those and rewire the system to use my arc reactor as its power source. The power usage should be minimal enough that you can run them 24/7 for decades on the reactor. No more blackouts. And that’ll free up energy for other things. Maybe Nintendo in the break room.”

Bruce looked at him in surprise.  “Really? That’s… actually really nice of you, Tony.  Wow… Yeah, I’m sure everyone would be excited about that.  Thank you. But I mean…”

He lowered his clipboard.  “Are you sure you don’t want to keep it?”   
  
Tony shrugged.  “What would I use it for?  Besides, I’ve made it before, I can always make it again,” he answered, looking down at his lap.  “But the total darkness and terrible lighting… that’s not good for anyone.”   
  
He looked up at Bruce again, his brows furrowed.  “So, will you do it?” he asked, cocking his head to the side and smiling hopefully.   
  
Bruce shrugged, a smile coming easily to his face.  “I mean, sure. I see no reason why not. A difference in lighting would be great for morale and it probably wouldn’t take too horribly long.”   
  
He wrote down something on his clipboard.  “So… I take it I can put down ‘accepting the surgery well’ with this little… thing…”   
  
“Doctor Banner.”   
  
The curtain slid open again, admitting Fury and Steve back into the room.  Steve gave Tony a small smile and a nod, but there was a deep worry in his eyes, standing back as Bruce looked up at SHIELD’S director.  “Oh, hey Nick. Tony had a great idea for improving the lighting system.”   
  
Fury nodded over at Tony.  “That’s great. Listen, our window of opportunity just got pushed.”   
  
“Wait, what?”   
  
“Ultron’s satellite grid is passing over this area.  We have to go dark for a week.”   
  
Bruce looked mildly concerned, like mentally he knew it was very bad news, but he had to force his expression to reflect that.  “Oh dear…”   
  
He glanced up when Fury and Steve entered and while Steve gave him a small smile, he immediately noticed his concern.  And it had nothing to do with his post-op health. As soon as Fury explained the issue, Tony blanched.   
  
“Dark?  That better be slang for turning off the computers and not turning off all power completely,” Tony frowned.  The heart monitor started to beep a little faster now.

“It’s not,” Fury replied bluntly.  “But it might be a blessing in disguise.  In three days, we’re going to distribute water and supplies and shut down all systems except life support.  In the meantime, while Doctor Banner is working on your lighting project, Captain Rogers will be taking you topside.”

The director gestured at Tony’s chest.  “The nanomachines in your system are self-powering.  You’re a walking generator, and even at this distance, that kind of technology is going to light up on Ultron’s scanning frequencies like a motherfuckin’  _ beacon. _  Captain Rogers will be taking you to the global capital, where you can get a firsthand look at Stark Industries and your nanomachines will be obscured by the technology in the area.”   
  
“We don’t think our Stark knows we’re here.  It’s probably just random,” Steve tried to reassure him.  “But just in case it’s not, SHIELD doesn’t want to take any chances.”

Tony furrowed his brows further at the idea of going “topside.”  The idea of being out in the open was both worrying and exciting.  He wanted to see what this world looked like, even if it was under his other self’s control.  Actually, the technology might be even more fantastic without anyone in his way…. No, he shouldn’t think that way.  Nothing was worth what had happened here. But still, he was interested in seeing it all and he was breathing easier now that he knew he wouldn’t be trapped in the dark for days.

“Alright.  Guess my bedrest is ending early,” he surmised, knowing Steve wouldn’t be happy about that.  He was, though. He didn’t like being cooped up.   
  
Steve gave him an amused, worried glance.   
  
Fury, meanwhile, allowed no time for tenderness. “Rest up today. Tomorrow we’ll fit you two up with some disguise tech, reinforce the stitches, and get you shipped out long before Ultron’s search grid gets within range. However, there is one thing that we need to discuss.”   
  
The director shot a look at Steve and Banner. “If I might have the room with him, please?”   
  
The super soldier and scientist looked at him in varied degrees of confusion, but they stood up and left. Steve looked back at Tony as he left the room; he wanted nothing more than to stay and comfort him…

Tony tiredly watched Steve and Bruce go, his eyes following Steve until he was gone. 

Finally, Fury and he were alone.   
  
Nick sat down with a sigh. “I’ll give you an opportunity to tell me the truth, Stark,” he informed him, looking intently into Tony’s dark eyes. “About you and him.”   
  
Tony tore his eyes away from the door.  He turned his attention back to the man, his expression almost bored, not betraying any emotion.  “And what truth are you looking for?” Tony asked, playing dumb. He wasn’t about to give Fury anything, especially if it would spell bad news for Steve.

Nick rolled his eyes.  “Fine. If you’re gonna be that way, I’ll be blunt.”

He propped his elbows on his knees, his one dark eye glinting in frustration at Tony.  “Rogers is not here to be a distraction for you. He is a soldier, and probably the best asset we have aside from you right now.  For god’s sake, if he would just accept a proper prosthetic, who knows what we might’ve gotten done at this point? Do whatever you want behind closed doors, but if something in your chest – or a little lower – tells you to do something that might compromise this mission?  Don’t. Because you’re gonna be heading home in a month, and he’ll be staying here, to help us build a new world. Or hell, maybe go on an island vacation. God knows we need it. Past Ultron, you’re not a part of this equation, Stark. That clear?”   
  
Tony narrowed his eyes as he listened to Fury, name apt for the feeling that was bubbling up in his chest.  “Why do you treat him like a machine? He’s the reasonable one, right? Shouldn’t you be talking to  _ him?” _   
  
Fury scowled, raising a brow dubiously at him.  “See, that’s how I know somethin’ is going on between you two.  Because you’re saying _ he’s _ the reasonable one?  That man has been a ghost of his former self for a long time, and suddenly he’s acting human again.  And that’s what worries me.”   
  
He shook his head, brows furrowed in a mix of regret and frustration.  “I know that sounds bad. I know. But if he has to face our Stark, for some reason or another, and he can’t bring himself to do what’s necessary because of you?  He’s gonna die. And it’s gonna be on your hands. You know that, yeah?”   
  
The thought had haunted him since they had started this all.  He knew the risks. But Fury laying it all bare before him made it so he couldn’t shove it to the back of his head like he had been doing.  Everything about this wasn’t going to end well.   
  
_ “Fuck you,” _ Tony murmured, his gaze out of focus and face a bit paler.  In that moment he hated Fury, because he had shattered all his built-up illusions and incessant denial.

Fury searched his face for a moment.  “…You gonna be okay for this?”

It took Tony a moment to clear his head of the waking nightmare that threatened to pull him under. Tony locked his eyes on Fury’s one. “Do I have a choice?” he asked rhetorically. They had to do this no matter what. He couldn’t give away their position with his tech signature... and he needed to see the world as it was under his doppleganger’s reign.   
  
The director shook his head.  “No. You don’t. But it helps to tell yourself that you do.”   
  
Fury stood up, giving him a nod.  He turned, moving towards the door… then stopped and turned around.  “If it means anything, I wouldn’t have called you in if I didn’t think you were capable.  I’m sure you’ll do fine.”   
  
Tony didn’t respond.   
  
It didn’t mean anything to him.   
  


-

  
Less than twenty four hours later, Tony’s stitches were being reinforced as a technician explained to him how their advanced disguising technology worked.  It wasn’t unlike what SHIELD had in his reality, only this time there was a “small complication” with him using it; the nanomachines that saturated his body gave off interference that messed with the interface.  The closer that his “mask” was to his actual looks, the less lag it would experience and the better the disguise would hold up under inspection. He was given the projection device – a subtle metal wristband, with African beads strung from it to look ornamental – and the emitters were slipped under his skin; small beads of metal that stung slightly when first activated.

His chest still ached but there was a sudden lightness to it that he hadn’t remembered. It made a difference, taking all that stuff out of his sternum.   
  
The technicians had settled for making Tony look like his teenage self. Less wrinkles. No facial hair. But the rest was the same, keeping his facial structure and pigmentation in tact so the tech wouldn’t come off as looking fake. He had pocketed the band for the moment, making the long trek to his shared apartment, if you could call it that. He was slower than usual, pain restricting his gait some. But he had made it back to an empty room.   
  
Steve had left a note in their room when Tony got back.  He had to go in overnight, so that they could attach a prosthetic arm to his existing nerve endings and fit him with similar emitters.  He apologized unhappily, but there was little he could do about it. So Tony spent a long few hours in the dark, only kept company by a small night light; the one that Steve had requested for him. 

He didn’t sleep. Instead he watched the light and thought about how to keep Steve safe.

Then, suddenly, he heard the door open, and light from a flashlight flickered down the tiny hallway.  Soft footsteps moved into his room…   
  
Steve peered in, keeping his flashlight down on the floor.  His blue eyes were tired, but all too aware; he stepped into Tony’s room, checking on him… then he sighed quietly and turned off his flashlight.   
  
Tony felt a gentle, but strong arm start to pick him up.   
  
He felt Steve pick him up a bit as he moved to join him in bed, _ two  _ strong arms wrapping around him as he spooned him, one warm and soft, one cold and hard.   
  
“Took you long enough,” Tony muttered jokingly, no malice in his voice. He relaxed in Steve’s hold, adjusting to the new arm. “How is it?” he asked quietly.   
  
“Strange,” Steve admitted quietly, a suddenly somberness to his voice. “I keep looking down and… now there’s something there. It’ll take some getting used to…”   
  
He looked down at Tony’s bandaged chest almost hesitantly. “How about you? How is it?”   
  
“I feel lighter than I expected,” Tony responded, with a little smirk. “But it still hurts.  It’ll take some getting used to.”   
  
He snuggled back against Steve a bit more, feeling safe and loved in his embrace. “What’s your disguise?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder as if he might see it.

Steve pulled Tony close, laying down behind him and cradling him against his chest. “Mediterranean tourist. Black hair, brown eyes, kinda dusky skin. They said it’ll give us options on what relationship we want to portray while we’re up there.”

Tony raised a brow. Did everyone know they were together? He wondered if they were all just keeping quiet out of courtesy for Steve. “Sounds sexy,” he teased. “I’ll miss the blue eyes, though.”

Steve’s lips curved up against the back of Tony’s neck. “I’m sure they meant whether we wanted to be posing as brothers, or family members. Something like that,” he murmured affectionately, pressing a kiss against Tony’s shoulder. “That’s pretty cheesy of you. That you’ll miss my eyes… Figured you as a fellow that preferred a caboose to look at.”

If it hadn’t been for his tone, he would have closed up a bit.  It was pretty cheesy, but it was true. “Well, that too. They better have given you a tight one for me to stare at when I’m following you around.”   
  
He turned carefully in Steve’s embrace, trying not to pull at his stitches.  He settled when his nose was close to touching Steve’s, able to see him. “If… you have to kill… the other me… you’d be able to, right?” he asked quietly, concern in his eyes.   
  
Steve went still, all the humor draining from his face as he looked down into Tony’s eyes. It felt like his heart had been locked in a vice, like his lungs had suddenly been cast in iron.   
  
“Where did _ that  _ come from…?” he whispered, touching Tony’s face.   
  
Uncharacteristically, Tony bit his lip, looking away almost shyly.  “Never mind. I’m sure it won’t come to that if we do our jobs right,” he murmured.  He still couldn’t make eye contact, for fear of Steve catching the blatant lie in his eyes. He didn’t think everything would end fine.  Not at all.

“Tony…”

Steve pulled his lover’s face back towards him, blue eyes almost pleading in the faint glimmer of the nightlight. “Please…”   
  
For a moment, Tony didn’t look up, but he knew he couldn’t avoid Steve’s gaze forever.  Not with that tone, begging him to tell him. He looked up with sadness in his eyes. “Fury knows,” he sighed, waiting for that to sink in.

Steve didn’t react, for a long moment…

Then, his eyes flickered with anger. “What the _ hell _ did he say to you?”

Tony’s eyes widened in surprise.  He didn’t expect anger to be Steve’s first reaction.  Tony put his arm around Steve, holding him in case he decided to jump up and confront Fury right that second.  In fact, he had completely forgotten that he now had strength to rival Steve’s, and the act was mainly symbolic in his mind.  “He said that I was distracting you from getting the job done and that I was going to get you killed,” Tony told him, not going to lie now.

“Son of a bitch…” Steve swore, glaring over towards the door like he had half a mind to go find the director, but at Tony’s hand, he sighed and lay back down.   
  
He pulled Tony close, taking care to be gentle with his stitches. “It’s not my job. It hasn’t been for a long time,” he murmured. “You couldn’t get me killed, Tony. That would never be your fault. It’s not going to happen.”   
  
He pressed a firm, protective kiss into his dark hair. “Besides… super strength or not, I could still kick your butt…”   
  
Tony closed his eyes at the kiss, breathing in deeply.  He didn’t quite believe his soothing words, but they helped a little.   “Did you want to test that?” Tony asked playfully, moving to pin Steve to the bed, pushing a bit firmly on his biceps as he held him down.   
  
Steve didn’t resist, smiling softly up at Tony as he was pressed down against the bed.   
  
“I don’t know,” he murmured, his voice deep and husky.   
  
Tony felt Steve’s thighs wrap around his waist, carefully pulling him down against him. “It wouldn’t be fair,” the super soldier told him quietly, placing his flesh hand on his chest; still not used to having another hand. “You’re still healing. You have to rest…”   
  
“Mm, you’re right,” Tony agreed solemnly, nodding.  “It would be terrible to be beaten by an invalid, even if you  _ are _ an old man.”   
  
That startled a laugh out of Steve, blue eyes glimmering happily up at Tony.   
  
“I love you,” he murmured softly.   
  
He reached up, gently pushing against Tony’s hand so that he could touch the man’s face. “No matter what anyone says, you know that, right…?”   
  
Tony smiled warmly, his eyes closing momentarily as he leaned into that warm, wonderful hand.  “Yeah…” he murmured, his brown eyes opening once again. “I do...” 

Tony leaned down to kiss him, savoring the way their lips met.

The blonde grinned against his lips, fighting to keep that familiar crooked smile under control so that he could kiss Tony properly. He couldn’t help but feel warm and safe and happy around Tony, like whenever they had sweet moments like these, that he could be on cloud nine…   
  
“You know… I’ve always had a thing for brown eyes…” Steve confessed, between kisses, finally letting his eyes fall closed.   
  
“Hm, that’s pretty cheesy,” Tony shot back with a grin, moving his hands to run through Steve’s hair.  Even with everything happening, he couldn’t remember being happier. Steve was his warm beacon of light in the darkness.  Now  _ that _ was cheesy, but he didn’t care.  Well, he cared enough not to say it out loud.   
  
Steve seemed to remember his other arm, almost laughing at himself for leaving it at his side, and used it to hold both sides of Tony’s face. He kissed him slowly, filled with adoration… then pulled him carefully into his arms and laid them both down.   
  
He blushed briefly, only hesitating for a moment before he leaned forward, gently squeezing Tony’s hips between his thighs, barely more than a whisper.   
  
“If you heal fast, I’ll let you fuck me if you want…” he breathed in his ear, blood rushing to his face.   
  
Tony’s eyebrows went up, warmth spreading through his whole body at the offer.  Steve was opening himself to him, letting him have every bit of him. Tony couldn’t help but kiss him again, his kiss warm and passionate.  “Only if you’re sure and you want me to,” Tony murmured into his mouth. He deepened the kiss, his fingers threading through Steve’s hair lovingly.

Steve sunk his fingers into Tony’s hair, breathing in his scent, his taste, everything. “I mean…” he whispered breathlessly, pulling away just enough to look up at him, a trace of mischief in his somber blue eyes. “You deserve a turn…”

Tony smirked, pressing a kiss to his neck. “You know I like what we have.  Do you want it?” he asked pointedly, not wanting Steve to feel pressured to perform.

Steve licked his lips, swallowing uncertainly, but he nodded, not letting that brief moment of self-doubt show.  “Yeah,” he murmured, leaning up to gently nip Tony’s lower lip. He let his thighs fall from the man’s waist, instead tangling his legs and gently pulling them together. “Once you’re healed… then yeah. I think so…”

Tony cupped Steve’s face, running his thumb back and forth, caressing him. He figured he would ask again when it actually came to it; Steve seemed too hesitant for Tony to just go along with it.   
  
“It’ll be a few days,” he smiled softly, his lips barely pressing against Steve’s, the sensation soft and yielding.   
  
“More than a few days…” Steve whispered against his lips, then sighed and gave in, soft and pliant under Tony’s hands. It wasn’t often that even the Steve of his reality was so relaxed and open. To feel the body of the super soldier embrace him so happily…   
  
Their body heat blended together, Steve’s feverish body temperature bleeding through their clothes until neither of them could feel the chill around them.   
  
The blonde murmured something unintelligible and pulled away, biting his reddened lips. “We should sleep… We’re due on the surface just after lights on.”   
  
“Turn over,” Tony requested, waiting for Steve to turn away from him.  

He noted some confusion on his face but then Tony spooned him, wrapping his arm around him and holding him close, his cheek pressed against the soldier’s back.   “Mmm, g’night,” he murmured, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades.

Steve bit his lip, grinning to himself as he held Tony’s arms close to him. He took a deep breath and settled, breathing in the scent of his lover’s pillow. He tried to relax…

For tomorrow, they would ascend to the world above.


	6. Into the Lion's Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Steve arrive in the capital of the new world, and it's even more than they expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Home to one of the best and sweetest "I love you" monologues we've ever written. <3

The next morning came all too quickly, that familiar blaring light bringing them to consciousness all at once. They grabbed their bags and took the elevator higher than Tony had ever been before, until they reached a low-ceilinged concrete room. Steve pulled the door closed behind them and sealed it like an airlock, then led him beyond the camouflaged door.   
  
He clicked his flashlight on, peering down a long, dark cavern. For the first time in a long time, a freezing cold breeze — moving and alive — brushed against his skin. Even if it was accompanied by the smell of black rocks, Steve couldn’t help but close his eyes, relishing the sensation. He had forgotten what a real breeze felt like…   
  
“I haven’t seen the sky in six years,” Steve murmured, smiling hesitantly over at Tony. “This might be nice, in a way.”   
  
Crinkling his nose at the smell of the frigid breeze, Tony suddenly appreciated it more at Steve’s comment _.  Six  _ **_years._ ** He was more determined to do his part than ever before.  Tony just wanted Steve to have the life he deserved.

Meanwhile, Steve held the flashlight in his mouth and turned his attention to his bracelet, switching it on. In Steve’s place appeared an average-looking Greek man with black hair and somber brown eyes.  Tony watched as Steve transformed into someone completely different, but his bearing and voice were the same. “We stay disguised from here on out. What’s our story? Are we friends? Family?”

“Boyfriends,” Tony said without hesitation.  He switched his own bracelet on and his beard disappeared, his wrinkles smoothing out.  He looked younger. His hair had also lightened by a few shades, a lighter, mousier brown now.  He couldn’t help but snort a little at Steve’s suggestions. Did he really think they could keep their hands off of each other for the entirety of their stay above ground? 

Steve smirked slightly in amusement, forging ahead in search of that incredible breeze. “Yes. Boyfriends. We’re from the US, maybe Malibu? Or Manhattan?”   
  
“Have you been reading my file?” he teased, following Steve.  “Maybe we should pick somewhere I haven’t lived before to be a little less conspicuous.  How about Chicago?” he suggested.   
  
The tunnel started to lighten, natural light seeping in from further along.  Eventually Steve was able to click off the flashlight. Steve hurried towards the light, unintentionally leaving Tony in the dust. He hopped over a ledge, then stopped, waiting so that he could help his lover over it, but his eyes were fixed on the sunlight at the end of the tunnel. It felt like so long since he felt the natural sun on his skin…

“Do you know enough about Chicago to answer questions about it if someone asks?” he asked, distracted.

“Yeah, traveled there a lot.  Do you?” Tony asked, smiling as Steve left him in the dust.  He chuckled and quickened his pace, but didn’t run; his stitches were tugging even at the speed he was going.

Steve didn’t even defend himself. “The last time I was in Chicago, I was on a stage in tights,” he informed Tony.

Tony laughed out loud at that.  “That’s not much different from what you wear now,” he teased, thinking of the uniform.

Still, his face lit up as he scrambled out to the front of the cave and disappeared into the blaring white light. He was forced to cover his eyes for a minute, eyes watering at the blaze of the African sunshine, but he sighed, long and happy, closing his eyes and turning his face up to the sun. How he’d missed this…   
  
By the time Tony caught up with him, Steve was sitting in the long grass like a sunning lion, face raised to the sky.  He followed him out, smiling softly at the expression on his face. Tony moved to sit down next to Steve, wrapping his arm around his waist and leaning his head against his shoulder.  He wished they could just stay like this forever.   
  
Steve sighed with contentment, leaning into Tony’s body.   
  
“Promise me we’ll go on a date while we’re up here,” he pleaded quietly. “A picnic or something. I don’t know when I’ll get the chance to breathe unfiltered air again.”   
  
“I promise,” Tony said emphatically, turning to press a kiss to Steve’s cheek.   
  
They sat there in comfortable silence, watching the long grass bend in the breeze, the sun creating patterns of shadow that danced beneath the stalks. A bird called in a tree nearby, insects buzzed, and the high bark of a zebra in the distance met their ears. It was peaceful.   
  
Steve smiled quietly, humming softly under his breath.   
  
“Sunshine… you are my sunshine…”   
  
He beamed and pulled Tony into his lap. “You make me happy, when skies are grey…” he sang just under his breath, looking up at him, eyes brimming with mischief and happiness. “I never told you, how much I love you~”   
  
He planted a firm, happy kiss on Tony’s cheek. “No one can take... my sunshine away~”   
  
Tony couldn’t help but snort at his song, still smiling like a goof about it. “Really? I don’t think you can get any cheesier,” he teased, turning his head to peck Steve on the lips. He actually liked it, even if it was cliche and overused.   
  
Steve grinned. “I know. It’s true though.”   
  
He smooched him back and stood up, carrying him bridal style as he started walking down the hill. “A ‘friend’ from the city left us a car at the edge of the plains,” he explained. “It’s a six hour drive into Wakanda. We should be there by noon or one.”   
  
Tony wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders and playfully kicked his feet as he was carried, pretending to take an invisible hat off Steve’s head and place it on his own as if they were re-enacting the famous ending of An Officer and a Gentleman. “You know, I can walk,” he reminded with a smirk. When the car was mentioned, he gave a nod. “Hope it has a radio.”   
  
“Oh, you can walk. I’m just not going to let you.”   
  
Steve chuckled, looking him over at his playful miming. “Is that a reference or something?”   
  
“You’re catching on, capsicle,” he replied with a smug look. “It’s a famous scene from An Officer and a Gentleman. The officer comes to the factory and carries his girl off to a better life.”   
  
Steve chuckled, clearing the brush and continuing down the hill.  “Well, I’m certainly taking you someplace nicer.”   
  
There, at the bottom of the grass and the rocks, was a road curving along the side of the hill, the wide African countryside opening up before them as Steve set Tony down on the ground and uncovered a camouflaged jeep.  The body was slightly remodeled to Tony’s trained eye – more advanced, built with aerodynamics in mind, with a smaller engine – but what really caught his attention was the fact that it had no wheels.

Tony approached the jeep, his eyebrows shooting towards his hairline.  He bent over and looked under the chassis, trying to see what mechanisms were being used to get the jeep to hover.  “Man, my dad would have loved to see this…” he muttered, thinking of one of his early technological breakthroughs that had never really gotten off the ground, figuratively and literally.   
  
Steve breathed in the sweet morning air and got into the driver’s seat.  “Fair warning, it’s been a while since I’ve driven one of these.”

As Steve climbed inside, Tony stood up and joined him, glancing at the controls to see if they varied drastically.  He raised a brow at Steve’s comment. “Are you telling me that it’s going to be bumpy?”

“No, just um…”   
  
Steve opened the glove compartment, fishing out the keys and slipping them into the ignition.  The car revved to life, smoothly picking up off the ground… then Steve very delicately pressed down the gas.

The car shot upward almost thirty feet into the air.  Tony’s hands shot out, his arms bracing against the car door and the armrest.  

_ Okay, not a hover car.  A flying car. _

Steve immediately took his foot off the gas, looking sheepish as he shifted gears.  “Torque-y.”

He glanced at Steve.  “Product of Wakanda or other me?” he asked, wondering who got the credit for this.

“Both,” Steve admitted, a little breathless as well.     
  
Finally, he got it into the right gear and – very gingerly – pressed down on the gas again.  This time, they zipped forward a little more smoothly, curved ballistics glass sliding up over the jeep so that they flew through the air like a bullet, soaring higher into the sky.  The speedometer went up to six hundred miles per hour at the far end of the scale, the needle slowly crawling up past three hundred as Steve accelerated. “When he found out about the real Wakanda, he developed an incredible fascination with their tech.  He conserved as much of their culture as he could, made Wakanda the new global capital, and implemented their technology into everything. With Stark Industries having free reign on vibranium, this is a pretty standard Earth vehicle nowadays…”   
  
Tony’s eyebrows continued to stay skyward, fairly impressed by all that.  So this is what his other self had been up to, given free reign with no limitations but his own mind.  The advancement was almost intoxicating, pulling at Tony to see and know more about it. After a moment, however, he forced himself to look at Steve, even if all he saw was a stranger with his voice and bearing.  It was his friends and the people he loved that kept him grounded, so to speak. Furthering technology was enticing, but not at the expense of those he cared about.

Steve smirked halfheartedly.  “You impressed? You’re not talking, so I assume you’re impressed.”

Tony licked his lips, relaxing his body and slumping in his seat a bit as he let his arms fall to his sides again.  “Yeah…” he murmured, still looking at the jeep’s interior as if he had just struck gold. He shook his head as if to snap himself out of it, grabbing Steve’s hand to hold, their fingers entwining.   
  
Steve smiled softly, his expression warm but bittersweet as he held Tony’s hand.  “It’s okay to be impressed,” he told him quietly. “You’re going to see a lot of incredible things.  Even the people at SHIELD have to admit that he made a… more _ efficient _ world, if anything.  People can cross oceans in a matter of hours.  They’re working on terraforming Mars. No one’s hungry anymore.  Don’t feel bad about admiring the advances… after all, it’s him we’re talking about…”   
  
“Advancement for the price of freedom and friendship and love,” Tony murmured, brows furrowing.  He lost some of that awestruck look in his eyes, like he had just been told Santa Claus wasn’t real.  It was hard to appreciate how beautiful the technology was when he knew what the price had been.   
  
Steve laughed halfheartedly, his eyes focused on some point far in the distance.  “I’d bet you anything he’d say it was worth it…”   
  
The super soldier swallowed, glancing down at his lap, then turned to give Tony a small, melancholy smile.  “It’s okay. Don’t worry. Try not to think too much,” he murmured, squeezing his hand. “I love you, okay? We’ll get through this.  And hey… maybe you can take some of these ideas home with you. In ten or twenty years, maybe you can bring them to fruition in your reality, without the nasty price they cost here.”   
  
Tony let go of Steve’s hand after the squeeze, but only to move it to rest against his cheek, his thumb brushing against Steve’s skin in a loving way.  “If I know him at all, I bet he only says that to keep from breaking,” Tony whispered. 

It would have to be a lie he told himself to keep moving forward, because if he let himself think even for a moment that he screwed up and that this wasn’t worth the price he had paid, he wouldn’t survive.  Even living as an outside observer of some possible outcome his future could have if his life took a turn like this Tony’s had left a heavy weight of burden on this Tony’s chest and shoulders. He felt responsible… even if he knew otherwise.

Steve sighed, shaking his head.  “Maybe…”

He hesitated, then leaned over, gently pressing his lips to the corner of Tony’s mouth.  He smiled softly at him, stole a kiss from his lips, then activated the cruise control and took his feet off the pedals.Tony’s eyes fluttered shut at the kiss, some of the stress and worry melting away as he focused on what was important and vastly more simple than so many other things were.   

“You want to drive?” Steve offered.

Tony couldn’t help how his eyes sparked with interest. “Sure,” he said casually, his eyes betraying his excitement even if the rest of his body exuded a relaxed, almost lazy manner. “Is there roll and pitch like a plane or is it automatically set at a certain altitude?” 

Steve chuckled.  “I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out faster than anyone,” he murmured.  “I have faith in you, genius. After all, a brain a lot like yours designed it.  Here.”

He pulled his seat back, pressing an extra switch. “Just don’t turn on the GPS yet.  We want to be driving for at least another hour at high speed before we connect to any satellites.”   
  
Like a luggage belt at an airport, the seats moved on a circular track, switching places without all the struggle of the driver switching sides with the passenger.  Tony’s face lit up as the seats changed spots smoothly, his hands grasping the steering wheel gingerly, almost afraid to seem too eager. He looked over the controls, noted the GPS button so that he didn’t push it, and started trying out the controls.  It was extremely intuitive, making it easy for just about anyone to learn like a normal car. He had a good feel for it within moments. “This practically flies itself, doesn’t it?” he murmured, glancing at Steve.

Steve smiled to himself. “Like riding a bike.”

He squeezed Tony’s shoulder and reclined his seat, basking in the sunshine that flowed in through the windows. The internal cooling system was designed to withstand worse than the baking African sun; even after an hour of flying, the glass was cool to the touch.  As they soared along, more and more cars joined them, and hovering, holographic traffic signals began to appear. 

Three hours in, they were sharing the sky with a few layers of swiftly moving traffic, the urban structures thickening across the plains below.  The city loomed ahead, already a marvel before Stark had ever touched it. With his additions, the place was a technological dream, inspiring awe even in Tony.  He had dreamed of places like this, but he had never thought it  _ possible. _

“You can activate the GPS now,” Steve told him quietly. The man almost seemed a little unnerved by the sight of new people glancing down at them while they switched elevation. “We’ll probably need it.”   
  
Tony nodded, hitting the switch and watching a screen blip to life, a map flashing up and moving along with them to show their current position.  “Where exactly are we going? Or did you want to drive?” 

Steve shook his head. “No… you can keep driving. I think it’s a pretty straight shot from here…”

His mechanical arm whirred with the tension, grip digging into his opposite bicep as he looked out the window. It was his turn to feel anxiety, gripping at his lungs like a dead man’s icy fingertips. Steve tried to focus on breathing. He had only ever seen this place when it wasn’t under Stark’s control… and his worst nightmare was coming true.   
  
It looked beautiful. Prosperous. Better than ever before. He  _ liked _ it.   
  
Steve swallowed, looking down at his lap. “It’s called the Elitsha Center. The main tourist processing building. They’ll give us a place to stay once our paperwork is processed.”   


Tony paled a little at the idea of having to go through a processing building.  He supposed he should have expected customs of some sort, but he had just assumed they would go straight to a hotel like regular tourists.  Reaching over, he clasped Steve’s hand in his own. “We’ll be fine,” he said with more confidence than he felt, misinterpreting Steve’s anxiety as fear of being caught.  “Hey, what are our names? Do we have fake documents?”

“I’m Christopher Evans, you’re Robert… Fluffy? No, Downey. That’s it.”

“Hm, glad it’s not Fluffy.  You wouldn’t take me seriously then,” Tony muttered, chattering with nerves.

Steve glanced back at Tony reassuringly. “Try to relax, sweetheart,” he murmured, even though the tension in his shoulders was unbearable as he took his lover’s hand. “Act excited. Most people are when they’re on vacation. Marvel at the technology, do what comes easy. Blend in. Our people have done this before.”

At the sweetheart comment, Tony actually did relax a little, squeezing Steve’s hand.  “Well, even if this does go south, I’ll be happy to spend the time we have together,” he murmured, the thought oddly comforting to him.  He hoped it was the same for Steve, even if there was a certain morbidity to it.

Steve’s smile faltered for a moment, gazing at him intently.

“Tony…” he murmured, interlacing their fingers.  He leaned forward, taking both his hands and claiming his attention from the traffic jam ahead.  “I would never let anything happen to you. Ever.”   
  
As the car practically drove itself, Tony turned to give Steve his full attention.  His heart ached at the thought of Steve endangering himself to save him, but he hoped it wouldn’t come to that.  “I know,” he whispered, leaning in to rest his forehead against Steve’s.   
  
The man gazed softly at him… then sighed and pressed their foreheads together.  “It’s okay, Tony. It’s okay,” he murmured.   
  
He gently slipped his fingers into short brown hair, smiling bittersweetly.  “We’re okay. No matter where or when we are, sweetheart, I love you. Okay? You got that?”   
  
He nodded slightly against him, their noses brushing together. “Yeah, I got that. I know...” he told Steve, giving him a kiss before pulling back. He was worried that too many drivers could see them and that they might pick up on their anxiety and fear. But Tony managed to give Steve a bit of a smile. “I like when you call me that,” he admitted.

“Call you what?”

“Sweetheart…”

Steve chuckled and held his face between his hands, almost playfully squishing his cheeks.  “I’m glad.”

He settled back into his seat, trying to take Tony’s mind off the dangers.  “So, what do you want to do when we get there? We have one week in Wakanda before we’re due back ‘home.’”   
  
“Get some good food,” Tony immediately answered, letting out a laugh. He grinned at Steve. “We can go on a date.”   
  
Steve’s eyes almost rolled back in his head.  “God,  _ good food.  _  I forgot that  _ existed…!” _   
  
Tony chuckled, enjoying Steve’s reaction to his suggestion. “That’s settled then. I’m taking you on a date. …Or maybe you’re taking me. Fury didn’t give me the money,” he shrugged.   
  
“Don’tchu worry, Mr. Stark. I’ll show you a real swell time,” Steve murmured, playing up his old Brooklyn accent as he swung their hands between them.

Tony was a bit surprised about just how sexy it was when Steve slipped into his old accent. He didn’t mention it though.

\---

Thankfully, the rest of the drive was uneventful by the perspective of those in traffic. Hours passed as they crawled through the traffic approaching Wakanda, nearly constant construction of greater and greater marvels obstructing the cars. Hover-bikes whizzed past the vehicles, carrying tired-looking people of all ages on their way to school and work. Programs ran on the side of the road, spinning with code, interactive diagrams and maps for those stuck in traffic, and all of it in the sleek formatting of hard-light holograms. Across the lines of traffic, Tony and Steve could see in every third car a young child expertly manipulating a holographic game, or watching a movie in midair. Nearly everything had the Stark Industries logo on it; a monopoly on the world’s technology in all but name.   
  


Tony held onto Steve’s hand as he turned his attention to their surroundings. He was honestly astounded by how much he recognized as variations of his own tech and how often he saw STARK written on the side of things. The other him definitely had a monopoly on all things tech.

It wasn’t until he noticed a few adults had the same tattoo that he furrowed his brow, trying to get a better look. Finally, he saw what the letters were.

_ A.I.M. _

“Whoa! What the hell are the A.I.M. tattoos about?” he blurted.  He was half-expecting an underground cult following of Aldrich  _ Killian _ as a response to the overwhelming market flood of Stark tech.

Steve started slightly at the outburst. He followed the man’s eyes, over to where he was looking. “Oh. I read about it in the dossier,” he admitted, lowering his voice as he sat back. “My— the other Tony never told me about it, so I had to find out secondhand. It stands for Advanced Idea Mechanics… started as a think tank in the early nineties, but Stark Industries absorbed it and paired it up with a research project developed by someone named… Hansen? Yeah… Whatever they created, it’s become bleeding edge medical technology, able to regrow entire limbs, but apparently it has side effects with certain people. Enhanced side effects. They put trackers in the people that’re enhanced, and the tattoos became a trend…”

  
He looked at Tony, puzzled. “How do you know about it? Is AIM something different in your world?”

Tony slumped in his seat, stunned.  _  I partnered up with them? _

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the thought of it being him.  No, it was the other guy. He snorted. He was starting to get what Banner meant when he spoke about the Other Guy.  “Uh, it started up the same way in my world. …But I blew them off. And then they had side-effects where people exploded….  They blamed it on a terrorist to keep it covered up. Killian ended up killing Hansen. And I killed Killian. Well, Pepper killed him.  He had enhanced Pepper. I found a way to reverse the effects, so no one else uses Extremis in our world.”

Steve looked at him curiously. “Extremis? That’s what it’s called?”   
  
He chewed on the inside of his cheek, peering out the window. “Fury will be happy to be able to give it a name… but to hear some people were exploding in your world because of it…”   
  
Closing his eyes, Tony leaned back in his seat, trying to banish the thoughts of that whole incident.  “Yeah. I take it that didn’t happen here. …I found a way to regulate it so that didn’t happen. Guess the me here did the same thing,” he muttered.   
  
Steve looked vaguely disturbed, but he sighed and rubbed Tony’s arm, trying to reassure him. “I’m surprised a nervous rat like Aldrich Killian had the courage to pluck up against Iron Man,” he murmured softly. “Once he did… I’m sure it was quite a fight. I’m sorry.”   
  
“…Yeah.  He manned up quite a bit after I snubbed him,” Tony muttered, knowing he had helped create that particular villain.   
  
The GPS beeped and he looked down, glad for the distraction.  “Hey, are we finally close?” he asked, tapping the screen and seeing that they needed to take the exit and park at the parking structure next to the Elitsha Center.  He took the exit and pulled into one of the docking bays of the parking garage. Once he pulled in, the floor moved, their jeep being funneled into the center of the structure and then lowered to a different floor where they were pushed out and parked.  A woman’s clear voice, sounding much like Friday’s, informed them to note their parking level and spot in order to find their vehicle quickly upon return. It repeated the message in a few different languages.   
  
“Ready, ‘Chris?’” Tony asked with a smirk.  He was nervous, but he played it as being a clueless tourist.  

Steve chuckled.  “Yeah… I’m ready, ‘Robert.’”

They interlaced their fingers, shoulders touching, and walked in.

It took nearly two more hours to get through customs, mostly through the lines and showing their paperwork — transmitted into microchips that had been inserted into their bracelets and activated with the gps. Steve just had to input their names and where they were coming from.  It was just past lunchtime when they finally left Elitsha Center and walked back to their car, examining the small, temporary golden mark that had been stamped into their skin. The attendant had assured them that it was designed to fade within a month, but damn did it look permanent.

While customs took a long time, as it always did, Tony was fairly surprised by how easily they got through.  Apparently the people underground really knew what they were doing as far as disguises. They hadn’t gotten anything as much as a second glance, let alone extra questions about their visit.  Tony breathed a sigh of relief as they headed back out to the car.   
  
“So what, they stamp the back of hands for reentry now?” he joked as he sat back in his seat, thinking it was a bit like leaving a theme park.  Wasn’t there a better way than gold temporary tattoos? He watched as the city loomed over and around them, his eyebrows high up in awe. It was almost more than he could imagine; the place felt dreamlike in a way.   
  
Steve sat back in the driver’s seat, almost amused as the car carried them down to their assigned hotel.  “It’s to differentiate visitors from natives, I guess,” he murmured. “Making sure that nobody overstays their welcome…”   
  
“Wouldn’t want that,” Tony muttered under his breath.

From there, Steve set the car on autopilot — a button next to cruise control — and they moved fluidly with the rest of the traffic, into the heart of Wakanda. People of all colors, races, shapes and sizes wandered across the sky walkways, dressed in African cloth, the near-invisible bridges glimmering in the sunlight as Tony and Steve passed them. The buildings weren’t just tall, the city itself was stacked over three layers high into the stratosphere, held aloft by the familiar, blue-white light of repulsor engines; a city of hundreds of millions, yet the air was clean and Tony had yet to see a single person not in motion. It was pure energy.  A city of the future.

The hotel loomed before them in no time, impressive even against the other buildings.  It seemed to go up for ages, affording its guests spectacular views, no doubt. Tony vaguely wondered about the emergency systems needed for a structure like it.  Wind, lightning, fire… there were so many things that could put such an expansive tower at risk. Yet he had a feeling that this city never dealt with such problems like buildings in his reality did.  Once again they pulled into a docking bay, this time a receipt with the location given to them as the car was taken to its designated spot. Tony got out and grabbed his bag, hoisting it over his shoulder, taking Steve’s hand again.   
  
Stepping into the elevator, they were whisked to the atrium floor, finding a bright, naturally-lit space with large windows and indoor waterfalls and plants.  It was tropical and soothing. Concierge-lined counters were off to the side with roped lines to handle its many guests. The line, thankfully, moved fairly quickly. Service was not a problem here.  

“Next please!”

The concierge brightened, her teeth almost blindingly white and perfect against her dark skin and full lips.  “Hello! Welcome to the Skytouch Grand Hotel. My name is Imani. Do you have a reservation?”

Some of the tension rolled off Tony’s shoulders as they schmoozed their way inside, riding the escalator up with a key in each of their pockets.  At the top of the escalator, they boarded one of the many elevators, the trip to the 6th floor almost instantaneous with the quiet speed the elevators traveled at. Tony and Steve exited -- moving down the inner balcony hallway overlooking the atrium -- and easily found their room. Steve swiped their key and they were in, greeted by a luxurious room. It wasn’t overly large like a suite might be, but the room definitely belonged in an upscale hotel. 

Light streamed in from the windows, but Tony realized they were projecting an image of the rainforest, almost like they had been transported there. He found a remote and pressed a button, watching as the scenery changed. Tony pressed another button and he was given a clear view of the actual city outside, gazing over the vast, beautiful city of New Wakanda.

“Fancy,” Tony commented with a smirk, turning to Steve. He held up his wrist and tapped the bracelet he was wearing. “Think it’s safe to ditch these while we’re in here?”

Steve drew the curtains over the window. _ “Now, _ yes.”

He sighed and straightened, turning off his bracelet. He took it off his wrist and placed it on what looked like a sleek black coaster on the nightstand; it lit up with a happy chirp and began to charge. “You never know when a drone could be flying around outside…”   
  
Tony let out a sigh as well, taking off his own bracelet and setting it next to Steve’s.  Glancing back at the door, he moved over and slid the deadbolt into place, just in case. Didn’t want housekeeping to accidentally walk in.   
  
Moving back to Steve’s side, Tony stood on his toes to press a firm kiss to the soldier’s lips, his hand wrapping around the back of his neck.  “I wish this was just vacation,” he murmured against his lips.

“You and me both…” Steve murmured.  The cool metal of his arm closed around him as he wrapped it around the small of Tony’s back, holding him close.  “But just for tonight, maybe we can pretend.”

Tony closed his eyes as he rested his forehead against Steve’s smiling a little. Pretending was nice.  “Let’s call room service and be shut-ins afterward then,” he grinned. They’d have to put the bracelets back on for the staff that delivered their food, but after that, they’d be free to be  _ themselves. _   
  
“Sounds like a good idea to me…” Steve murmured, stealing a gentle kiss from Tony.   
  
His fingers slipped up into those soft, greying brown curls.  He smiled slightly to himself and lightly scratched Tony’s scalp.  “I swear, I almost forgot what it’s like, having two hands…”   
  
Tony leaned into his touch, a blissful smile on his face. “Miss it?” he asked, peering up at Steve to catch his subtle facial cues.   
  
Steve hesitated, gazing into those gorgeous brown eyes… then he smiled crookedly.  “Yeah. It means I can hold you twice as tightly, right?”   
  
Only a few things really made Tony light up. Getting a breakthrough on a groundbreaking invention. Seeing one of his technological gambles coming to fruition. But nothing quite like Steve put the warmth that was there in his eyes.  “Yeah,” he agreed, sounding almost a little breathless. He wrapped his arms around the super-soldier, pressing his cheek against where his shoulder met his neck. 

“I love you,” Tony murmured, his voice low but unafraid, as if he had said it dozens of times. In his head, he had.

“I know…” Steve whispered, his voice low and husky.

Then suddenly he blinked and opened his mouth again, a flustered pink spreading across his nearly translucent white skin, from so many years underground. “I know that sounds bad. But I-I know. I know you love me…”   
  
He chuckled quietly as he pulled away, a gentle metal hand coming up to cradle the back of Tony’s head. He looked down as he spoke, like he wasn’t quite strong enough to look him in the eyes. Instead, his gaze lingered on where Tony’s arc reactor had once been. Staring into the man’s chest, straight through to his heart. “It’s always here…” Steve murmured, soft and tender as anything in the world. “It’s in… your eyes and your skin. It’s in the way you look at me, and the way you touch me at night. How you wake up in the morning and relax as soon as you see me, and how even though the world’s out to get us both, we’re still standing. You’re still standing. You’re my Tony, my Iron Man, you know who I am and why I am and you’re still in love with me somehow. And I can’t help it, I couldn’t help it from the moment I saw you, but… no one will ever know how much I love you too.”   
  
He let out a tight, strangled sigh, like he could hardly breathe as he held Tony in his arms. Like he would never let him go. “In this insane, fucked-up utopia… or anywhere else… you’re my one, flawed perfection….”   
  
Tony’s eyes went glossy as emotion began to overwhelm him. On his last, murmured word, Tony’s lips captured Steve’s for a passionate, all consuming kiss. It almost felt like he couldn’t breathe unless he breathed Steve in. He just couldn’t get close enough.   
  
“How am I supposed to follow that up?” Tony muttered teasingly against Steve’s lips, nipping at the plush, rosy flesh that beckoned him.   
  
“Accept it…?” Steve breathed against Tony’s soft mouth.  “Accept that I’m always gonna love you. No matter the time, the location, the reality.  I’m not gonna change. Even if I’m meeting you for the first time, our edges will fit together and I’m gonna love you.  I’m always gonna love you. Remember that…”   
  
He knew what Steve was telling him, and yet, even with the comforting knowledge of it being true, it hurt like hell. It felt like a weird sort of betrayal, even if it would still be him when he went back to his own reality.  Tony nodded, tears slipping out from under his closed eyelids. “Okay...” he promised, his voice rough with emotion.

_ “Promise _ me,” Steve murmured, cupping his cheeks.  He gently pulled Tony’s face up, so he could look him in the eyes.   _ “Promise  _ me you will…”

Watery russet met those baby blues that Tony so dearly loved to look into. His head shook slightly, as if he didn’t want to, as if promising would make everything final right that moment. But he couldn’t say no to his love. “I promise,” he replied hoarsely, tears still streaming down his cheeks.

Steve smiled softly, feeling that warm pressure at the back of his eyes and just letting it go.  He felt the tears flow freely and met Tony’s lips with his own once more. He picked him up – wrapping his lover’s legs around his waist – and carried him to bed.

\---

He made sure that Tony understood their promise that night.  Their sex was slow and intimate, and their kisses sometimes tasted like tears, but it was all Steve could have ever asked for.  He had his Tony back… even for just a little while… and he loved him too much. Each knew they would only have the other for a short while. There was no alternative. But even the short time they had was a blessing. It was more than a lot of people had.   
  
Finally, night had fallen outside.  The pair of them lay in their stripped bed, the linens placed in the hall and their bodies showered and clean.  Steve just held him close, whispering sweet nothings into Tony’s ear and occasionally pressing soft kisses into those greying brown curls.  Just holding him. Thinking about nothing else.   
  
“You know, I’ve always had a thing for brown eyes?” Steve murmured, smiling crookedly down at Tony.   
  
Wrapped up in Steve’s embrace, Tony smiled at the comment. They both felt a little lighter at the moment. “Yeah… you told me yesterday.  But, to be honest, I’ve always had a thing for blue,” he admitted with a smirk. “Though yours are better than any others I’ve seen.”   
  
“I’d hope so.  ‘Cause you’re stuck with ‘em.”   
  
Steve beamed and pressed a kiss to the corner of Tony’s mouth, then sobered as he pulled away.  “So,” he murmured, begrudgingly back to business. “What are we doing tomorrow? Where do you want to go?  What do you need to know about Stark Industries to get in safely?”   
  
Tony sighed. Alright, fun was over for the moment.   
  
“I need to get a feel for the place. At least see it from the outside. If they do tours or allow people in the lobby, even better. The more we can see, the easier I’ll be able to navigate from the blueprints.” 

“They do offer tours.  They only go through decoy sections of the building – Stark’s original lab, the fake core of Ultron, things like that – because they’re made to be bait for people like us.  People scoping out the place,” Steve murmured. “But you’ve seen those old sections of the building in the blueprints. I’m sure your big brain can connect the hallways once you have a sense of distance.”

  
He sighed to himself, running his fingers through his hair.  “I hope he’s not there…”    
  
Tony nodded, not worried about going through fake areas. He had the blueprints memorized by now, but it was one thing looking at schematics and another actually walking the halls in real life. Like Steve said, he just needed a feel for distances.   
  
At the sigh, Tony ran his hand over Steve’s shoulder, rubbing soothingly. “We won’t be there for long. I’m sure he has more important things to do than give tours,” he pointed out.   
  
“Yeah…” Steve murmured.  “I know.”   
  
He fell silent for a minute, then he huffed and wrapped Tony up decisively in his arms, turning on his side.  “We should sleep. I’ll call tomorrow…”   
  
Curling against Steve’s body, Tony nodded, closing his eyes and falling into the oblivion of exhaustion. Whatever dreams he had weren’t bad enough to wake him up, his lover keeping the monsters at bay. 


	7. Wakanda Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony gets a look in a very dark mirror.

Morning came too early, once again.  

Tony whined, wanting to stay in the warm embrace forever. Instead, he pressed a kiss to Steve’s temple and got up, sliding on the bracelet and getting dressed. He was ready to go quickly, if a bit somber. That would have to change; they still had appearances to keep up.  “Breakfast and then get this over with? Or just go there first so we can relax?” Tony asked, even if his stomach was growling. They had skipped a couple meals, but then again they were used to eating less underground.

Steve didn’t want to admit that he was hesitant to eat anything. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to keep it down.   
  
Nonetheless, he finished making their reservation with the tours and put down the phone. “We should eat. Can’t risk being shaky,” he replied evenly, sinking into his own quiet headspace as he pulled Tony into his lap. “We’ll be fine…”   
  
“Light breakfast,” Tony suggested, splitting the difference. “We can have a better lunch after.” 

He pressed a kiss to Steve’s forehead, resting his chin on top of his head as he hugged him.

After a moment, he pulled away and tugged the blond’s hand to get up. “We should get going,” Tony murmured. 

A few minutes later, they were both dressed in shorts and T-shirts; classic tourist wear. Tony even had a nice digital camera to take pictures with. He wished he could get a picture of Steve, or one of them together, but pictures sans bracelets were out of the question. Only pictures with their disguises on were safe.

Steve spotted the camera and smirked, pressing a gentle kiss to Tony’s knuckles. The green eyes of his disguise were soft and warm with affection.

“Just a couple on vacation to the capital of the world,” Steve murmured. “What could possibly go wrong?”

\---

The flying tour bus to Stark Industries arrived to the hotel precisely on time, flown automatically by an AI with a youthful female voice, an African accent lending to the elegance and authenticity of the gorgeous spring sun and thatched roofs all around. However, the bus was still crowded. Some things even the future couldn’t change.   
  
Still, the ride through the sky was a wonderful experience, watching the world through smooth glass walls. There wasn’t a single bad spot to sit or stand unless one’s sight was blocked by bodies, the tourist vehicle offering a full 360 view of the city. Tall building reached so high into the sky that frost tipped the highest structures… and that was where they were heading. Up, and up, and up… towards a glorious, sleek, black and white behemoth of a structure held aloft by dozens, if not hundreds of repulsor engines.

Tony was completely enthralled by the technology around him.  The views from the bus were spectacular. He kept one hand linked with Steve, grounding him as the gears in his mind whirled.  What he would give to see this tech in his own world. But it came at a price. One he wouldn’t pay. His fingers squeezed Steve’s just a little more.

_ “Welcome to Stark Industries!”  _ said the bus AI.  _ “You may call me Shuri.” _   
  
The flickering hologram of a slender African woman came to life before them. She smiled at them and raised a hand towards the structure that looked over them. “I will be your tour guide for this afternoon!”   
  
Steve swallowed, his eyes darkening at the sight of the young woman. He knew that face. It had been a long time, but it felt like yesterday…   
  
“You know her?” Tony asked quietly.   
  
“She was the princess of Wakanda,” Steve whispered, eyes locked on the dark-skinned youth. “An incredible genius… could’ve rivaled even you. She died in the second attack on the country. After she was gone, King T’challa’s anger got the better of him. They went for a full on assault… and that was the beginning of the end.”   
  
He swallowed, gazed down at their intertwined hands. “I can’t imagine that he would make an AI of her just to brag.”

No… this felt like some kind of tribute. A twisted memorial to the young scientist’s fallen potential.

Tony winced, looking at the hologram with a new perspective.  As Shuri began speaking about the construction of the building and the repulsors, the hologram moved seamlessly, not making a sound on the tile while the tourists’ footsteps echoed loudly.  Hollowly. It was macabre.

Still, Tony followed, listening for any important information.  There wasn’t any. Of course trade secrets wouldn’t be given to the populous.  He didn’t expect it. So he paid attention to the security, the people making their way to offices, their route.  Anything that would give him an edge when he would have to play… himself. He took a few pictures like any other tourist, knowing it might be helpful for review.

They went through a huge, futuristic lab — a dummy lab to Tony’s trained eyes, but impressive to the average tourist — and through a pair of dark, double doors, into a circular core of sleek technology and glimmering blue lights. The decoy core of Ultron… but even the decoy core was immense; a virtual behemoth of almost neural-level connections that, while it no doubt held very little information of value, was nearly optimized in its perfection.   
  
What neither Tony nor Steve had expected to see, was a shimmering yellow stone connected to the main panel.   
  
The infinity stone.   
_   
_ _ “This is the core of Ultron,” _ the hologram told them, beaming back at the tour group. _ “The greatest technological feat in our planet’s history. With the power of the Mind Stone to stabilize Ultron’s matrix, the artificial intelligence that safeguards our little blue planet is quite possibly the keenest, most efficient mind in the entire galaxy. The achievements of Stark Industries has repelled not one, but two alien attacks which had the potential to wipe humanity from the face of the earth. Thanks to Ultron, they never got past the bouncer~” _ _   
_   
The tour group oohed and aahed, snapping a few pictures of the stone as she spoke.   
  
Tony paled and snapped a picture of the stone, glancing sideways at Steve.  At the mention of two alien attacks, his brow furrowed. Two?  __ Two?   He looked quizzically at Steve, knowing better than to ask him about that now.  But he needed to know.   
  
After another minute, Shuri led them to a large area where there was a cafe with snacks and drinks for sale, restrooms, and even a small gift-shop.  Ugh. Shuri announced that they would take a brief break before continuing to a Q&A area with interactive learning spaces. 

Tony gave Steve a look and headed to the bathroom, stepping in and looking around, thankful that it was empty.  He waited for Steve to enter before locking the door, a frown on his face.

_ “Two _ alien attacks?” he whispered.  “What was the second one?”

“It started out as a quick assault, meant to steal the infinity stones that were on earth,” Steve murmured, quietly enough so that his voice wouldn’t echo. This room wasn’t soundproof. “SHIELD only found out about it after the fact. An alien ship crashed on earth, and three things that called themselves the ‘children of Thanos’ showed up in New York and Wakanda demanding the stones. When they were repelled, their boss and his army arrived. It was the first time that Tony had to go full-out in his armor. And the first time Earth fought back as a unified planet…”   
  
He gave him a small, bittersweet smile. “Earth won. They killed the aliens. Tony — the  _ other  _ Tony — I think he had the big guy stuffed and put up in a museum somewhere. Proof that his world peace worked and all that…”   
  
Tony gaped at Steve, trying to process that.   _ Holy hell.  _  What if that was awaiting for him at home?  How would they win without the same advances and everyone on Earth fighting together as one?  Tony let out a shaky sigh, pursing his lips. It did no good to deal with what-ifs. They had other problems at the moment.  He needed to focus.   
  
“Ok, so how many infinity stones do I- does he have?” Tony asked, a little wary of the answer.  He knew himself well enough to know what might happen if he had too much power left unchecked. Hell, he had dealt with those repercussions before, hadn’t he?  He was dealing with them now.

Steve shook his head. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Fury kept that information to himself… but if he has more, he’s putting them to use. It’s the way he works…”

Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair.  Another snag he’d have to work in. “Let’s just go finish the tour.  I want to get out of here and not worry about my expression garnering attention,” he murmured, unlocking the door and straightening up, trying to affect an attitude of excitement.   
  
Steve pulled him back, gently cupping his face and kissing him, firm and deep…   
  
He lingered there, closing his eyes to savor the taste of his lover, then gently let him go. “We’re almost done,” he whispered. “I believe in you. Hang in there…”   
  
Tony instantly relaxed into the kiss, glad for it.  He needed Steve there to ground him, remind him that things could work out even if it didn’t seem like it.  As Steve let him go, he breathed out in a sigh and gave him a small smile before turning and walking out, turning the camera back on and snapping another photo.  Shuri had reappeared and was motioning for the group to rejoin her.   
  
“We are nearing the end of our guided tour, but please, feel free to stay as long as you like in the Interactive Learning Center.  I will be on hand to answer any questions you may have,” she announced as she led them down another hallway into a large area that glowed with futuristic devices.  Holographic games for children allowed kids to run off and play while the adults browsed the information on how this technology bettered their own lives at home. Shuri popped up in multiple places around the room, smiling and waiting for individuals to ask questions at their leisure.

Steve swallowed, glancing between the interactive stations… then, he approached one of the princesses.

_ “Yes, sir?” _   
  
“I was wondering, um…”   
  
He glanced over at Tony, who was a few paces away… then he looked back at Shuri, the macabre reminder of years past.  He could still remember the rage on T’challa’s face, and the drape of pale silk over his sister’s slender corpse. Too small, too frail.   
  
And here she was, smiling.   
  
Steve swallowed down the nausea at the back of his throat and tried to look at her.  “Do you know if Tony Stark is in today?”   
  
_ “Ooooh, that is classified~”  _ the AI cooed, smiling.   
  
Tony raised a brow at Steve and then realized what he was up to.  He joined his side and scoffed. “Really? He enjoys his privacy, huh?” he commented, not expecting a straight answer from the hologram.

_ “An average of six people try to kill Secretary Stark daily.  He has asked that his location be kept secret from people who are not on an approved list, for the sake of his convenience getting from place to place,” _ the AI replied easily, shrugging at him innocently. _  “People that have not gotten the memo yet, I suppose.” _

“Memo?”   
  
_ “Mundane assassination attempts are of little consequence, but they do hamper his schedule.” _   
  
Tony blanched, but it was a good thing his disguise was already pale to begin with.  Well, he didn’t quite expect… that. Blatant threats built into the system. “Well, I suppose we definitely have it now,” Tony murmured, tugging on Steve’s arm.

_ “Oh!  Well, have a nice day.” _

Steve let out a slow breath, eyes down, holding onto Tony’s arm to keep from shaking.  Part of him was thankful that his lover was as strong as he was now. If he hadn’t been, the muscle under his clenching fingers might have been bruised to the core.  He didn’t want to ask how many people had died trying to kill the man he loved…   
  
The man he  _ had _ loved.  That wasn’t him.  Not anymore.   
  
Steve took another deep breath and tried to loosen his death grip on Tony’s arm.  “I’m okay…” he whispered. “It’s okay…”   
  
“Let’s get to the car,” Tony murmured, feeling the vice-like grip on his arm.  He led Steve out and thankfully they weren’t noticed at all. As soon as they were in the car, Tony pulled Steve into a hug, rubbing his back.   
  
Steve let out a sharp, heavy breath and wrapped his Tony up in his arms, burying his face in his shoulder as he did his best to let things go.  The war didn’t feel that long ago. Not even a full decade, and now the thought of the battles of Wakanda had brought themselves to the forefront of his mind.  The tremors… the endless waves of manned and unmanned drones… the sky going black to wipe out solar power…   
  
Thirty eight days of fighting in darkness.  The crushing sense of inevitability. The anger and the agony from his raw stump, reopening stitches as he fought.  Fought to avenge Bucky. Fought to forget the look on Tony’s face. Fought to preserve the world he knew.   
  
_ “I have seen the future, Captain!” Red Skull declared.  “There are no flags!” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Not my future!” _ __   
  
Words from the far past, the first world that he lost, echoed in his mind.  Steve swallowed down the nausea in his throat and rested his forehead on Tony’s shoulder.  Twice, he had lost everything he knew and loved… He couldn’t handle it a third time.   
  
“D-Did you get a good gauge…?” he whispered.  “Distance…?”   
  
Tony hugged Steve tightly to him, not exactly sure what was going through his mind but hoping that being there for him would help.  He stroked the blond’s hair, rubbing his back and pressing kisses to the side of his head.   
  
“Yeah, I got plenty.  It’ll help,” he reassured, wishing they hadn’t gone now, even if it had been helpful.  “Shhh, let’s just go back to the room. We can hole up there like a couple newly weds,” he joked slightly, hoping to get Steve’s mind off whatever darkness he was fighting in his mind.

Steve laughed mirthlessly, nuzzling into Tony’s neck.  “We should go shopping first… get some food,” he murmured, trying to fix his frame of mind.  “I want to take you apart tonight in the best way… and I don’t want to have to stop to reactivate our disguises for room service.”

A shudder ran down Tony’s spine at the promise in Steve’s words.  “Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, placing a loving kiss on his forehead before pulling back, starting the car up.   
  
“I’m sorry…” Steve murmured, eyes cast down as they pulled out of the spot. “I didn’t mean to freak out back there…”   
  
Before he had even finished speaking, Tony had reached over and grabbed Steve’s hand tightly.  “Don’t apologize,” he insisted. “You have  _ every _ reason.  The fact that you have been keeping it together is impressive.  I’m proud of you. I always am…”   
  
“You shouldn’t be…” Steve admitted softly, his voice deep and rough with exhaustion.  “I could’ve stopped it a long time ago… and I didn’t. I didn’t because I was being selfish, and the whole world paid for it.  I should’ve been stronger…”   
  
Tony tightened his grip, looking over at Steve as he continued to drive, thankful that the car was basically on auto-pilot.  _  “Don’t. _  Don’t do that to yourself.  If he’s as powerful as I’ve seen and as everyone has said, you couldn’t have stopped him,” Tony told him firmly.  “He would have just killed you too.” 

And deep down, he knew it was true.  No matter what the other him’s feelings for Steve were, if Steve stood in his way, he would kill him.  He had no qualms hurting the others. The only reason he had survived at all was because Tony had seen a way to disable him without killing him.  But if Steve had actually been trying fully…. He saw the video. He _ saw _ the look in his eyes.  He was every bit capable of killing to further his goals.

“I know…” Steve whispered.  “I know... but even after all this, I’m still wondering if he can’t be saved.  It’s pathetic, Tony. This isn’t…”

He swallowed and bowed his head, crushed under the weight of the world.  “This isn’t a back alley. This is  _ war.  _  I was there and I just stayed down.  I should’ve _ gotten back up. _  I should’ve died there.  Having this happen, living to tell the tale… it’s shameful.  You shouldn’t be proud of me...”   
  
Tony pulled over, wrapping Steve in a hug, trying to pull him as close as possible as he could in the small space.  “You’re not a robot, Steve. You’re a person. You’re a man with a big heart. A bigger one than mine, that’s for sure,” Tony said emphatically, tightening his hold.  “…It’s easy to kill. It’s easy to just end things. …It isn’t easy to give chances that aren’t deserved in the hopes that there’s a better outcome. Stop looking back and saying ‘what if.’  We can all do that when we’ve seen what’s happened. But not all of us can say that we made the more honorable choice. That we tried to make things _ better.   _ And  _ dammit, _ it may have been selfish, but I know you.  You’re never just thinking about yourself. You thought of everyone too, and you did what you thought would work out.  It’s not your fault it didn’t. It’s not your fault.” 

Tony’s voice started to break, tears in his own eyes.  His words felt wooden and terrible. He wished he could say something more eloquent, to convey how he really felt in his heart.  Steve might have been flawed, but he was a true hero. He was too good for the people he saved. They didn’t deserve him. But he kept fighting and beating himself up over things that he had no control over.  No, he deserved a rest and gratitude. And  _ love. _

Steve looked up at him as he spoke, searching Tony’s face…   
  
He could only offer a weak, broken smile, lips barely curved as the old scars in his heart threatened to reopen. Tony was trying to reassure him, but his heart still broke for the world that he’d lost. The flags that no longer existed outside of history books: The millions that had died for the cost of strength, and billions more that now lived in a golden age of prosperity and repression… all in the name of unity. It wasn’t freedom. Freedom was in the open sky. Freedom with in the wind and the sun. Freedom was in love, stupid, boundless love.   
  
“I don’t want to kill him…” Steve whispered brokenly, his eyes burning and overfull as he glared out to the open skies. “But this time, I’m not gonna stay down. No matter the consequences. I’m not going to live with that regret ever again…”   
  
Tony leaned back a little to look at Steve, pulling back a bit further as he vowed to end things one way or another. His cold demeanor sent a chill through Tony.   
  
Smoothing his hand over Steve’s hair and ending at his neck, Tony gave a definitive nod in return, letting go so he could once again drive. Whatever happened, there would be an outcome that one of them wouldn’t come back from.   
  
Tony prayed that it was Stark that wouldn’t make it.   
  
Steve wiped his eyes subtly, glancing over at Tony. “I love you,” he told him softly. “I’m not gonna let anything hurt you. Not even him.”   
  
Tony glanced at Steve and nodded. He believed that. “I love you completely,” he replied, eyes catching those blue orbs.

-

It wasn’t long before they had parked at a structure that opened to a market that was suspended hundreds of feet in the air. The air was cooler, acting much like a walk in refrigerator and keeping the fruits, vegetables, and flowers fresh in the open air. No bugs ventured that high. It was an ingenious idea to elevate open-air markets.

Steve took Tony’s hand, interlacing their fingers as they walked between the stalls. He still bore the weight of his decision, but with his lover close, he could hold it on his shoulders now. Whenever they paused to look at new fruits, Tony putting a few in the basket, Steve couldn’t help but just look at him, smiling softly as the rest of the world faded away.

“You were handsome when you were younger,” he told him. “You still age like a fine wine, though.”   
  
Behind them, a sleek silver car pulled up, unnoticed by either of them.   
  
The compliment managed to garner a blush from him, his cheeks tingling in a nice way. “Are you calling me old?” Tony chuckled, teasing Steve a bit. 

He turned from the stall to plant a kiss on him when he froze, his face paling instantly and a look of shock registering on his features as he looked over Steve’s shoulder.

“Let’s go,” he blurted in a hushed tone, not caring that they weren’t done shopping just yet.

Steve frowned, the permanent worry lines between his brows carving deeper over his disguised eyes. “What’s wrong?”   
  
He turned before Tony could stop him.   
  
Steve stopped breathing.   
  
The Global Secretary of Defense, Anthony Stark, was a man that someone could miss at a first glance. Short in stature, but at a moment’s notice, the air in the room would change, and suddenly everyone was quiet. In a noisy marketplace though, it felt like time slowed down, Steve’s senses of perception shutting down one by one. He couldn’t hear  _ anything. _   
  
Dark, mad brown eyes — cool and calculating, hiding the genius that had destroyed and saved a planet — glanced across the way.   
  
For one nightmarish moment, Stark looked right at him.   
  
Then, his eyes slid over to Tony. Stark frowned, brows furrowed in puzzlement at the sight of a man that looked almost exactly like he had in his youth.   
  
As those eyes slid over to them and then directly onto him, Tony tried his best to wipe the stunned look off his face. The only saving grace he had was that everyone in the vicinity looked just as much as a deer in the headlights as he did. It was obvious that everyone revered and feared the world’s ruler. His mouth gaped and he clutched the camera in his hand nervously, the motion coming off as someone who dared wish to get a picture of a famous person, rather than someone terrified of being caught.   
  
Stark glanced down at the camera, back up at Tony… then he walked over to the fruit stand and got in line, adjusting his sunglasses.   
  
He ran his tongue over his teeth, checking the time.   
  
Then he looked up, meeting Tony’s eyes. “I’m right here, kiddo, just ask for a picture. I feel like I’ve committed a crime.”   
  
Stark glanced at Steve. “Also, get someone to catch your buddy before he passes out, yeah?”   
  
Tony didn’t dare speak. He was afraid his unaltered voice, as shaky as it would be, would give him away. He was sweating profusely, unsure of what to do when a yell rose up among the crowd.

“Gun!”

“HE’S GOT A GUN!!”

People screamed and scattered as a man drew a weapon, aiming it at Stark and opening fire.  Tony hit the ground immediately, looking to make sure Steve had done the same. The man strafed indiscriminately, just trying to get Stark as best he could.

All the hairs on Tony’s neck suddenly raised in a surge of energy.  From his place on the ground, all he saw was a shift of Stark’s shoes.   
  
The gunfire stopped.   
  
“Really.”   
  
When he spoke, Stark’s voice was deep, cold, and deadly quiet.  He didn’t shout. He didn’t even sound angry.    
  
He sounded… only slightly irritated.   
  
“ _ Really. _ ”   
  
Tony looked up, dark eyes wide, and saw the same look that had looked out at him from decade-old security footage.  The coldest determination, Stark’s eyes like black ice, locked on the man that had emptied a clip of semi-automatic rounds at him; the shooter was collapsed on the ground, making a nearly silent, ungodly sound.  Tony could smell urine.   
  
Stark leaned down, picking up one of the shells.  “It’s not even vibranium. I swear. To god. Are you  _ kidding  _ me,” he muttered, dark eyes flashing to the quivering form of his attacker.  “You  _ had  _ to have given this some thought.  Or did you just think ‘oh, wow, I’m going to kill the most powerful guy in the galaxy today.’  That’s a  _ great _ idea.  You’re blowing my mind, buddy– o-oh, what’s that?”   
  
A shuddering, wet gasp sounded from off to his right.   “I just severed a few nerves in your spine, stop being such a baby,” the secretary muttered.  “Still, good luck ever eating, sleeping, shitting, or firing a gun ever again. But I left the pain nerves intact.  You have fun with the next two days of uh, your body slowly shutting down. Should be memorable.”   
  
Stark dropped the crumpled shell to the ground, the crushed pellet rattling to a stop less than a foot from Tony’s face.  Pulling out his wallet, he stepped up to the fruit vendor.    
  
“Can I get a couple cantaloupes–?  Oh, no need to rush, take your time.”   
  
Stark stuffed his hands into his pockets, sighing to himself as the fruit vendor scrambled to grab three of his finest cantaloupes.  He glanced back down at Tony… then gave him a little smile. “Crazy morning, huh?”   
  
Tony couldn’t breathe.  He stared at his soulless doppleganger as he stood menacingly over the hunched crowd.  Where Tony had seen villains command subjugation, Stark attained it easily without hesitation or resistance.  Fear soured Tony’s stomach, making him taste bile. The smell of urine penetrated his nostrils, and he was fairly certain it wasn’t just the failed assassin that reeked of it.   
  
But worse than anything, beyond the looks of terror and the tears that ran silently down faces as they tried to look away, were the faces that watched with _ glee.  _  With utter  _ excitement  _ and  _ adoration.  _  Some watched with bated breath, only because they hoped to see a spectacle.  They wanted to see Stark really punish the man. To use his technological powers to  _ destroy  _ him.  And it wasn’t just adults.  There were  _ children.  _  Kids that obviously idolized the man that had unified the world and brought such peace and prosperity.  He was their hero, their god. And they wanted to see him smite down his foes. 

Tony had to close his eyes to keep from retching.  He shuddered, averting his eyes from Stark’s. Whatever the man had been, he was no longer what Steve hoped for.  He had witnessed true evil, and it was seated in those dark, chilling eyes.

Stark’s smile faded when Tony looked away.   
  
“…I guess you’re from out of town,” he murmured.

At the comment, Tony glanced back up, doing his best not to frown at Stark.  He didn’t need to piss the guy off.

Stark paid the fruit vendor and accepted his melons, giving the dark-skinned man a little smile. “Sorry about that, bud. Hope I didn’t wreck your afternoon rush.”   
  
“N-No, Mister Stark! It is perfectly fine.”   
  
“Mister Stark!!”   
  
Stark glanced around, a wry smirk curving his lips as two kids ran up to him. “Hey there.”   
  
“Mister Stark, is it okay if we get a picture?!” the little girl pleaded, raising her camera.   
  
Stark took off his sunglasses, a faintly fond expression in his dark eyes. “It is  _ absolutely _ okay. C’mon, bring it in.”   
  
The kids giggled excitedly and crowded close to him, taking a picture selfie-style. Stark gave the lens a practiced, winning smile, snorting and ruffling the little girl’s hair when she flashed a peace sign. “Yeah, peace. Love peace.”   
  
“Thank you Mister Stark!”

Tony paled, brows furrowed at the display.  He felt frozen, unable to do anything. This was a version of him.  A version he very well could have become. Could become. Tony felt as if an icy hand gripped his insides and squeezed.   
  
Stark straightened up and waved goodbye to them, then glanced back down at Tony. “You can always tell what kinda environment kids grew up in…” he commented, analyzing Tony’s expression coolly.   
  
Without waiting for acknowledgement or consent, he grabbed Tony’s arm and pulled him back to his feet. “Where ya from, kid?”   
  
Tony almost shoved his other self off and told him to  _ fuck off, _ but he caught himself quick enough.  He felt like his voice was a squeak, but he allowed it to be breathier and higher than normal, taking advantage of it disguising his voice.  “Chicago,” he replied quietly, eyebrows still high on his forehead.

“Huh.  Was expecting Baltimore, or more northern California.”

Stark smirked and bumped Tony’s arm with his fist.  “Well, aren’t you a handsome guy. Bet you’re swarmed back in Chicago.  Nice face. Reminds me of when I was in my twenties. So!”   
  
He picked up a ripe mango, tossed it to him, and took one for himself.  Around them, people were started to get up shakily, going back to their normal routines.  A few of them hesitated, eyes alight, like they were hoping to get their own turn to speak to Tony Stark, but the tide of busy citizens gradually carried them away.  Stark placed a few more singles on the fruit vendor’s cart and pulled Tony to the side. “What made you decide I was the bad guy?” he asked casually. “Maybe I can give ya some answers.”   
  
He bit into the mango, eyes locked on Tony’s.   
  
Tony was almost white as a sheet at this point.  He didn’t dare look back at Steve. If Stark figured it out somehow, he couldn’t have him making the connection between them.  He hoped Steve had the sense to disappear, get back to the car. Or at least wait in a dark alcove of the market. He knew Steve wasn’t the type to leave a man behind.   
  
“I-I don’t think you’re the bad guy,” Tony stammered, going with allowing himself to be afraid and cowardly.  Anything that distanced himself from his normal personality. “I just… don’t like violence,” he managed, gulping.     
  
“Honestly, neither do I,” Stark admitted, taking another bite of mango. He glanced down at the shuddering, gasping form of his would-be assassin. “But after a long time, you kinda get…”   
  
He made a vague gesture. “ _ Desensitized  _ to it. That’s the word.”   
  
Stark pulled a bit of the mango skin out of his mouth and tossed it at the man’s body. It landed on his cheek, saliva scattering across his cheekbone.   
  
Stark turned his attention back to Tony. “So, you think I’m violent. Not gonna argue with you,” he informed him through a delicate mouthful of ripe mango. “So what do you think I should do instead? Oh wise boy from Chicago, perhaps the truth spilleth from the mouths of babes.”   
  
He snorted at his own joke. “Sorry. Heh. But yeah, you were saying?”   
  
Tony blinked, trying to look back at Stark and get rid of the image of the mango skin flopping against the man’s face.  “…Jail? Hold a trial, even if the evidence is obviously against him,” Tony faltered, brows knit together.    
  
Stark stopped chewing.   
  
He frowned, turned, and raised an eyebrow delicately at Tony.   
  
Tony felt a cold sweat break out over his skin and he actually feared for his life in that moment.  Everything in him screamed to run away.   
  
“That’s just… how it was when I was a kid,” he mumbled. That’s how things _ had  _ been done….  Now Stark was judge, jury, and executioner.  He looked down, like one might do to not make eye-contact with a predator.  To do so was to invite an attack.   
  
“Yeah? How old are you?”   
  
“Twenty-eight,” Tony lied easily.  He knew this regime had been around for about a decade.  That would have put him as a teenager when things changed.  Easily acceptable to have an opinion of how things should be because you grew up with it.   
  
“So when you were  _ fourteen _ or so, you were living in Chicago and interested in the justice system enough to repeat lines from NCIS. Real creative.”   
  
Stark finished off his mango, sucking the juice off his thumb. “Well, while there’s no proof that you’re stupid and naive, that comment was,” he informed him. “You literally stood here and watched that guy open fire in a crowd of innocent people. Now, pumping lead — ugh,  _ lead, _ it’s just asinine — into a crowd, where… you saw those kids, right? The ones that wanted a picture? Yeah, strafing bullets into a crowd. With  _ kids. _ All in a futile, ill-thought-out attempt to end my life. One, he didn’t do even a lick of research, and two? It’s not about me.”   
  
Stark eyed Tony firmly. “It’s not about you, either. It’s about legacy, kid. It’s about what we leave behind for future generations. People like that—“   
  
He pointed at the shooter, not breaking eye contact. “People like  _ that  _ put  _ everything _ at risk. Could I have handed him over to the courts to suffer the exact same fate, or draw off government funding for years in prison? Sure. But because I didn’t,  _ everyone _ is going to remember this. Because murderous sons of bitches like that are the ones that should be afraid in my world,  _ not _ the innocents. So which technique do you think is going to be more effective? Mine?”   
  
He gave Tony a little, empathetic smirk. “Or yours?”   
  
Tony gulped again.  “Yours,” he whispered, unable to make his voice any louder.  He glanced back at the paralyzed man, thinking that if he truly cared, he could have just ended his life.  He didn’t have to torture him.    
  
There was a long moment of silence.   
  
Stark glanced between Tony, and the fallen man. It didn’t take much to add two plus two and get four.   
  
He sighed, shook his head, and offered his hand to Tony.   
  
Before his eyes, infinitesimal silver particles boiled up through his pores, collecting and manifesting into a familiar shape. A sleek dagger.   
  
“Do it then,” Stark murmured, eyes on Tony’s face. “You think I’m cruel? Then end it.”   
  
Tony’s face fell.  Son of a  _ bitch. _  Stark knew exactly what he was doing.  He alleviated himself of blame by placing it on Tony.  If he refused, Stark would have the right to mock him, to call him a coward.  To say his way works best.   
  
But if he accepted, he would have to kill that man.   
  
Tony took the knife, and before he could think about it or hesitate, he plunged it into the man’s chest.  

The man gasped and yelped one last time before the light left his eyes, a death rattle leaving his lungs.  Tony closed his eyes, letting go of the hilt and falling back onto his heels, his head hung low.

The knife dissolved in his grasp, disappearing from his awareness… only the blood on his fingers and clothes telltale of his crime.   
  
“Congratulations.”   
  
Stark watched as the nanites returned to him, sinking back into his skin, and walked back to his car, ruffling Tony’s hair as he passed. “How’s it feel it be a better man than me?” he murmured, only loud enough for him to hear.   
  
Shoulders hunching defeatedly, Tony stared at the blood on his hands until he heard the car door shut and the engine hum as the car took off.  Even then, he continued to stare, frozen, feeling absolutely broken as people treaded carefully a few feet around him.   
  
Gentle, warm hands picked him up.   



	8. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony makes one of the biggest decisions of his life.

The ride back to their hotel was a blur. 

Steve didn’t try to wrap his mind around what had just happened. He knew that if he tried, he would shatter from the raw tension of it all, and he couldn’t do that right now. Tony needed him.

  
Tony stared blankly into the distance the entire way back to the hotel, that hollow, hundred-yard stare still there even when Steve carried him back to their room. The super soldier slipped off their disguise bracelets and stripped him bare, leading him to the bathroom and into the shower. He turned it on, as hot as he could take, and turned to the love of his life. He took Tony’s hands in his own… washing the dried blood off of them wordlessly.   
  
It wasn’t until Tony saw the red water swirling at his feet that he slumped against Steve, a sob escaping his throat.  “I’m sorry…!” he whispered, his body shaking.

Steve wrapped his arms around him, holding him close.  His eyes were unfocused, dark, aimed at the far wall but seeing nothing.

Ten years.  Ten years… and he had stayed down.   
  
Again.   
  
“That man would’ve died even if you hadn’t done it, sweetheart…” he whispered.  “You did the right thing.”   
  
Tony shook his head, looking up at Steve.  That wasn’t what concerned him. It had hurt to do that, but he was sorry about himself.  About what this version of him had become. It was his fault, right? For being that way. “I’m fucked up.  What if- what if I become that? What if it’s just a matter of time?”

“You won’t…” Steve murmured.  “You won’t because you’ve seen what he’s done.  You won’t, because you don’t want to be him…”

Clenching his jaw, he turned and punched the tile, actually breaking it with his fist.  Bits of ceramic punctured his skin, embedding in his knuckles and making him bleed further.  “I want the technology!” he sobbed, pressing his palms to his forehead. “This place is paradise!  It’s right there,” he moaned, sliding down the shower wall until he was bunched up on the floor, his knees near his chin as he cried, wails of despair ripping his chest.  He felt weak. He was a bad man. Look at what his desires and fears had caused.

Steve gazed at his lover without a hint of life in his eyes. His mind cast back, to a day that was both far too long ago, and far too recent…   
  


  
_ They were in a SHIELD office. He had found out what Tony was doing, buying up small countries, stocking them with weapons. He had seen his plan and confronted him. It was the day where everything could have changed. All because of one answer. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Baby, you don’t understand.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Tony moved closer to him, fingers tangling in Steve’s hair; it had been shorter back then, golden, his jaw smooth and shaved. “We can have everything. When I told you I wanted to give you the world…” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He let out a soft, desperate breath, looking up into Steve’s eyes. “I meant it. This isn’t just about me, sweetheart, this is everything I want us to be! Everything the world should be. Nothing is going to hurt you anymore, not the government, not anyone or anything because we’re going to make it better.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “What you’re doing is insane, Tony!” Steve whispered, trying to keep his voice down. “You’re about to start World War Three…!” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “And it’ll be the last one. It’ll be over in a matter of weeks, Steve, and then no more. No more wars, no more anything, it’ll be what ends strife on Earth! Steve…” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Tony looked up into his eyes, desperation in his dark gaze. “I want you on my side…” he whispered. “Say you’ll be on my side…” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Steve had hesitated. Too long… _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The silence was black and heavy as night… and when he looked up, the look in Tony’s eyes had changed. Even if he lied, Tony would know. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “What are you willing to do…?” Steve breathed shakily. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Tony was silent for too long. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ His fingers slowly slid out from Steve’s hair, falling to his shoulders, slowly taking them back. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ It was the last time they would ever touch. If Steve had known that at the time, he wasn’t even sure if he would have stopped him. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Anything,” Tony whispered. _

 

“What are you willing to do…?” Steve breathed shakily.

He looked up at Tony… _ his _ Tony. “What are you willing to do?” he repeated brokenly. “What are you willing to sacrifice…?”

Tony panted rapidly on the floor, the water spraying in his face and vaguely reminding him of being waterboarded.  He just breathed harder, sputtering. But Steve’s quiet voice pulled him back. He blinked up at Steve, craning his head until his face was out of the stream, allowing him to breathe, if a bit raggedly from all the steam.

Sacrifice?  Lifestyle? Liberty?  People?   
  
“N-nothing,” Tony sputtered, his pupils pinpricks, eyes full of fear from just the question.  Would he sacrifice sleep? Comfort? Money? Oh yeah. He had and he would. Those things weren’t important to him.  But he didn’t own anyone. He wouldn’t trade lives. He wouldn’t trade the rights of others. He wouldn’t trade humanity.  “Nothing that isn’t mine to give.” 

“Then marry me.”   
  
Steve didn’t even know how long he had been waiting to say those words until they came out of his mouth.   
  
Tony’s mouth dropped open.  Did he hear that right? Was he hallucinating?   
  
Suddenly the entire day took on a surreal quality.  Was this all a nightmare? Tony actually pinched himself, harder than he needed to.   _ Ow. _  Ok, that hurt.   
  
Then he felt the water splashing on him again.  The pain in his knuckles. His heart hammering in his chest.   
  
“What?”   
  
“Marry me.”   
  
Steve turned off the water and knelt, pulling Tony’s warm, wet, bleeding body into his lap. He clutched at him, letting out a slow, agonized breath. “This isn’t going to end well, for either one or both of us. I was going to make Tony Stark my husband, twelve years ago, after the fight with the Chitauri… but something kept stopping me. He was… angry. He had darkness in him that I thought I could endure just as I had been and I was wrong. I kept hesitating, kept pulling away, waiting for the right moment, and there’s never going to be a right moment, Tony. I-I…”   
  
He buried his face into Tony’s shoulder. “I lost the love of my life ten years ago. He’s been dead for a long time… and I’m done waiting for him. I love you. I want to marry you and I don’t want to wait another second. This isn’t about the future or the past, this is now. I want you. I want you…”   
  
Shock was clear on Tony’s features, but it began to smooth out into concern, and then understanding.  Tears welled in his eyes, his fingertips barely grazing against Steve’s cheek, just needing that connection with the man holding him.  After a long moment, his fingers found their way under Steve’s chin, gently tipping his head up to look into his eyes. Tony just held his gaze for a long moment, connecting with his lover on a spiritual level.   
  
“I will.  I’ll marry you,” Tony whispered, his eyes searching Steve’s soul.  “ _ I love you. _  More than I’ve ever loved anything,” he murmured.   
  
He took in a shuddering breath.  “If you asked me to cut off my hands to keep me from inventing horrors, I would,” he told him shakily, nothing but sincerity in his eyes.

Steve exhaled, relief washing over him like a rush of water.  For one perfect moment, everything felt like as it should be.

Almost.   
  
He took Tony’s hands, sharing his air with his husband.  Not a single lie, barrier, or stitch of clothing stood between them.  The air was charged with electricity, heavy with steam…   
  
“Anthony Edward Stark.”   
  
The brunet’s breath hitched when his full name fell from those perfect lips.  This was it. This was happening _ now.   _

Steve gazed into his eyes.  “Everything I am, I give to you,” he whispered.  “I don’t need a cathedral. I don’t need expensive clothes or ceremony.  I don’t need a home, or children, or a document to sign. You have always been my home.  And no matter where we may be, or what eyes might watch us, I would have you beyond the flesh.  Beyond whatever waits for us. Whatever stardust and chemicals make us up, whether we are god-made or some incredible accident, whatever wars that the universe will wage… I am yours.  I ask you to be mine…”

Tony’s eyes welled up as Steve spoke, trying to memorize every word, wanting them forever tattooed on his heart and in his soul.  His hands gripped Steve’s fingers so tightly, not able to help the tears that streamed down his face. 

He just wished that they could enjoy this in a different time and place.  A time and place where they didn’t have to worry about death and destruction looming at their door.

“Steven Grant Rogers…” Tony began, his breath catching in his chest, almost a sob leaving his lips.  “I wish I could give you everything. I wish you could have all those things, if only because I love you so much.  All that I have… all that I am… is yours. I… I only regret that we don’t get more time.”

Tony sobbed, looking down for a moment and trying to suck it up, sniffling and pulling it together before he looked back up at Steve with watery eyes.  “But I don’t regret this. Any of it. And I’ll take all the borrowed time we get.”

He moved his hand to rest solidly against Steve’s cheek, his palm connected firmly with skin and scruff, and he managed a smile.  “Remember the good, my love. Remember that in hell,  _ you _ made me smile.  Be mine… always and forever.  I’m yours.”

Steve smiled, warm and genuine as he closed his eyes, leaning into Tony’s touch.  “Do you remember what you promised me?” he murmured. “When you get back to your reality…?”   
  
More tears slipped down Tony’s cheeks and he nodded, closing his eyes for a moment before giving Steve what he deserved, his gaze and reassurance.  “Yes. I remember,” Tony whispered.   
  
“We’ll have time, husband,” Steve whispered, holding him close to his heart.  “I might not look the same. I might not have the same memories. But we’ll have time.  We  _ will _ …”   
  
Tony let out a sob, holding Steve close and crying, their foreheads pressed together.  His lips searched for his husband’s and closed sweetly upon them once found. It wasn’t rushed or even heated.  Just pure love as Tony kissed the love of his life.

Steve kissed him back sweetly… and even for all the bittersweet weddings in the world, he couldn’t help but smile against his lips.  “You know, technically I suppose this is legal,” he chuckled warmly. “I am a Captain, after all~”

That garnered a laugh from Tony as he swatted Steve’s chest playfully.  The tears subsided, a lightness managing to chase away their dark future for the moment.  “You’re an idiot,” Tony chuckled. “My idiot captain husband~” he added, his lips meeting Steve’s once again.

Steve beamed down at his husband, bright and excited.  “We’re married…! I’m… I’m happy… I’m really happy, Tony.  Thank you…”

He kissed him again, grinning excitedly.  “We should celebrate. We should order out.  Eat good food. We can dance the night away if we want to…”   
  
The super soldier blushed faintly and ran a hand through his wet, dark bangs, pulling them out of his face.  “I mean… I can’t dance, but I know you can.”   
  
The way Steve’s face brightened up made everything seem lighter.  Suddenly, the dire problems melted away for a while and it was just them once more.  Tony returned the smile and kiss, deepening it for a moment before pulling back. “Let’s get cleaned up and dressed.  I’ll teach you to dance. We can dance right here,” he promised. “Did you want to go out? Or stay here… without the bands?”   
  
“I don’t care where we are,” Steve beamed, cupping his face.  “But I do want to look at your face. Your face.”   
  
Elated butterflies swarmed in his chest as he took Tony’s injured hands and kissed them, then interlaced their fingers and stepped out of the shower.  He grabbed a thick, warm, fluffy towel, his movements light and quick and eager.   
  
He threw the towel over Tony’s head and rubbed him dry, grinning when his husband swatted at him playfully.  “Hey, I like your messy hair. Don’t pretend you don’t like it either~” he teased. “C’mon. Let’s get some band aids on those hands.”   
  
Tony couldn’t help but chuckle as Steve mussed his hair while he dried him off. “Hmm, hotel’s not going to be happy from the tile damage,” he observed, arching a brow.  But he was smirking, finding it kind of funny now.   
  
He let Steve lead him to sit down, watching his husband carefully place band-aids over his knuckles and kiss each cut with the utmost gentleness.  Tony ran his free hand through Steve’s still-wet hair, smoothing the locks back a bit. “Dry up and I’ll put in an order for room-service. Champagne?  Strawberries and whipped cream? Chocolate?” he suggested, waggling his brows a little. “Oh, and dinner. What are you feeling up for? Steak and potatoes?  Or a big, cheesy burger?”    
  
“Order the whole menu. Fury’s footing the bill.”   
  
Steve wrapped the last band aid around Tony’s finger, pressed a mischievous kiss against his knuckles, then glanced at his husband’s chest. The stitches from his surgery were healing nicely, and that cursed underground bunker felt so far away he could almost forget it.   
  
“Just for a little bit, I want to forget everything else…” Steve whispered, smiling happily and pulling him into the room. “Let’s make this a honeymoon for the ages, Iron Man…”   
  
Almost three hours later -- in the coming dark over the African skies -- they were completely sated, with food, with drink, with sex, but never with each other. No, Tony could never get quite enough of Steve. But this was close. He felt completely blissful as he lay tangled in the sheets with Steve, grabbing another strawberry and feeding it to his husband. Well, part of it. With a kiss, he stole some of it back.   
  
After a moment, Tony wriggled free of the sheets and stood, turning the TV to a different music channel, finding ballroom music. He beckoned his husband over. “Come on; we’re dancing,” he smiled brightly, holding out his arms for Steve to take.   
  
Steve stared at the TV, then up at Tony. He had faced down aliens, robots, and multiple world wars, but the idea of dancing to ballroom music of all things…   
  
“I’ll try not to step on your toes,” he murmured, smiling hesitantly.   
  
He took Tony’s hand and stood up, a pleasant kind of nerves fluttering in his chest.  “You’re really gorgeous…”   
  
Tony wasn’t worried about him stepping on him when they were both barefoot. He was about to say so when Steve spoke.  He beamed at his husband, suddenly looking years younger. “You’re not bad yourself, handsome,” he replied, his voice a bit sultry.   
  
He took Steve’s hands and placed one on his waist and the other held his hand. “You’re taller, so you’ll lead. At least, you will once you start getting these steps.  Don’t look at your feet, look at me,” Tony murmured softly, warm chocolate eyes capturing Steve’s.

“This is ridiculous,” Steve teased, leaning down to nibble playfully at Tony’s ear.  He met his eyes almost shyly, trapped by deep wells of warm chocolate brown…

Steve couldn’t help but grin lopsidedly at the sight of his gorgeous husband, his bright smile radiant in the dim golden light of their hotel room.  He was married. He was finally married to the person who challenged him, who sharpened him like iron on iron. Two sides of the same coin. Perfect in his imperfections, and all his… Steve could hardly believe it.  He felt like he just might burst.   
  
Steve beamed, pressing his forehead against Tony’s.  “I thought you were going to teach me somethin’ a little more modern than the waltz, Mr. Futurist…”    
  
“Mm, why mess with a classic?” Tony responded, ducking his head to kiss a spot on Steve’s neck.   
  
But taking the cue, he pulled away and switched the channel, smiling when Righteous Brothers came on.  He pulled Steve in close. “For this, all you do is lean in close and sway,” he murmured, his hand urging Steve to lean his head in against his own, his other hand entwining their fingers.   
  
“Ohhhh… my love.  My darling…. I’ve hungered for… your touch,” Tony sang along in a low baritone, lips at his husband’s ear as they swayed.     
  
“A long, lonely time...” Steve sang along softly. 

Tony’s eyes were bright as he looked up at Steve, pure adoration in his gaze.

The blonde grinned at the look on Tony’s face and stole a kiss from his lips as they swayed. His voice wasn’t as fair, or as sculpted, but he loved that song.  He squeezed Tony’s hip, looking deep into those beautiful, intelligent brown eyes, his heart overfull and his gaze utterly smitten. “Time goes by so slowly…” he sang softly.  “And time can do so much. Are you still mine…?”

“I need your love….  I need your love….” Tony murmured emphatically, pressing himself to Steve just in an attempt to be closer.  He felt like his heart might burst, it was so full. He pressed a kiss to Steve’s collar bone, lingering there as he trailed his lips over his lover’s skin.

Steve took Tony’s hand, guiding him into a clumsy spin. He messed it up slightly, watching with a giggle as Tony had to hold onto him, turning in his arms. “Godspeed your love to me– oh my god, I told you I can’t dance…” he chuckled.

Tony grinned, chuckling with Steve.  “I don’t care,” he told him, standing on his toes and planting a passionate kiss on those lips.  His hands moved to cradle Steve’s face, taking in a breath against his lover’s mouth and breathing him in.  Finer than wine, his husband was intoxicating.   
  
Steve beamed, leaning down to capture his lips. Stealing the air from his husband’s lungs, he pulled Tony into his arms, kissing him slow and intimate as the music played…   
  
He pulled him to the bed. “We have time…” he whispered. “You can teach me later…”   
  
Steve pushed him gently down to the bed and climbed on top.   
  
They never did leave the room, but the night after they were married, Tony had left his snoozing husband in bed while he searched the room, finding a couple brass fittings under the bathroom sink that would do. Yeah, it might leave green rings around their fingers, but he didn’t care. Tony called the front desk and asked to borrow a manicure set, using the dainty tools and file to work the brass carefully until he had somewhat fitting rings. He had etched ‘Love is our reality’ on the inside of the simple bands, presenting the ring with a smirk the next morning to Steve. They both wore them now, the moisture from their skin already tarnishing the rings slightly green. Tony actually liked the idea of his skin bearing the mark of their union even if the ring was removed.

\---

 

Two days later, their room was a mess. They had run through more music than either of them had enjoyed in a long time, danced until they could barely breathe for laughter, drowning themselves in each other until they moved in such synchronization that Steve felt like he’d given up a piece of his soul in exchange for a piece of Tony’s. 

On the morning that they had to leave, Steve lay in bed, his flesh arm wrapped around Tony’s shoulders. He sighed, murmuring sweet nothings into his husband’s warm skin.   
  
Tony couldn’t remember ever feeling this languid, his fingertips absently tracing unknown designs against Steve’s chest.  “Are you sure Fury will miss us? I don’t think we’ve quite destroyed this room yet,” he whispered roughly.

Steve chuckled.  “As tempting as that is… we need to head back to headquarters,” he whispered softly, voice husky with sleep as he kissed him softly.  “It’s time to come back to reality, baby…”

“Mmm, did you already forget what’s engraved on your ring?” Tony tsked teasingly, but he knew Steve was right. He returned the kiss as his fingers found the metal band on his husband’s finger, running his thumb over it. 

“Is Fury going to give you hell for this?” he murmured quietly, looking at the symbol of their unbroken bond.

“Even if he does, I don’t care,” Steve murmured softly, smiling to himself..  “I’m married now. You’re the only one that can tell me what to do.”   
  
That earned a wide grin from Tony. “Is that so? Then kiss me,” he ordered cheekily, liking this already. He leaned in to kiss Steve before he complied, not giving him a chance to refuse anyway.   
  
“Cheeky~”   
  
Steve smooched his husband and playfully groped him, pulling him close as they tangled in the sheets.  “It’s mutual though, mm?”   
  
He slapped his ass and rolled out of bed.  “C’mon,” he mumbled. “Get up.”   
  
Tony groaned and flailed in the sheets like a child not wanting to go to school, but after a moment he complied, smacking Steve’s ass in return on his way into the shower.   
  
A couple hours later they had left the destroyed hotel room, complete with their first married squabble as Tony had bundled the sheets to look like they left a body in the room.  Steve promptly messed it up and chastised him for trying, not wanting to give housekeeping more of a heart attack than the disastrous room already would. It was a good thing they weren’t required to check out.   
  
Finally, Tony glanced in the rear view as the city disappeared behind them, turning his eyes back to Steve. He appreciated the view inside the car better.

For a few hours, it was just them – the same way they had been for days, in a happy limbo – holding hands in the car and pointing out funny shapes in the clouds.  Married. Glowing from days of dancing and music and good food and sex…

Eventually though, something in Steve sobered, visible even through his holographic disguise.  They were going back into the dark.   
  
The man sighed quietly, bowing his head.  Trying to mentally prepare himself to go back to the caverns of SHIELD.   
  
As they got further from the city, they became more and more quiet. They both knew the fun was over. Tony squeezed Steve’s hand. “I’m here,” he reminded quietly. He would do all he could to continue showing his husband just how much he loved him.

Steve interlaced their fingers, eyes cast down at their gleaming brass rings. “I know…”

He smiled softly and leaned over, stealing a little kiss from his cheek. “What kind of formal ceremony are you thinking of?” he asked, genuinely curious. “Because I know you and you’re nothing if not extra. Is that the right slang term…?”   
  
A grin broke out on Tony’s face. “Well we’re not going to be able to do it. But a large cathedral wedding. And then the reception at a country club. Lots of sprawling green land around a decked out clubhouse,” Tony said. “Would you like to add or detract from that?” he smirked. “If you say you want red, white, and blue bunting, I’m drawing the line,” he teased.   
  
“Oh god, don’t even joke,” Steve chuckled. “I do like blue though. And red, red’s your color. And white because it’s a wedding, of course…”   
  
He trailed off, frowning. “Oh dammit, you’re right.”   
  
Tony snorted, pulling Steve’s hand up and kissing the back of it. “I think a dark blue would be nice,” he agreed. “We’ll leave out the red this time.”

“What kind of flowers?” Steve asked playfully.  “I refuse to have roses at our wedding. Maybe lilies.  Lilies are nice.”

“What’s wrong with roses?” Tony asked, raising a brow. “Fall into a rose bush as a kid?”   
  
“I don’t know, they’re just a lot in large quantities.”   
  
Tony smirked a little at that. “Okay, that’s fair. Would you be okay with me giving you roses sometime or just stick to lilies and other flowers?” he asked, trying to figure out what was acceptable or not.   
  
Steve grinned to himself, blushing bashfully as he ran a hand through his hair.  “I don’t hate roses, Tony,” he tried to explain. “I just…”   
  
He flushed and gave his husband and wry smirk.  “You better not surprise me with roses. I won’t be able to look at you.”   
  
Tony grinned back at Steve. “Now where would I find roses anyway?” he reminded.   
  
Steve eyed his husband, amusement glittering in his eyes. “Don’t you get any ideas,” he murmured softly. “You’re sweet, you know?”   
  
He squeezed his hand gently. “You’ve always been sweet.”   
  
Giving him a soft smile, Tony returned the hand squeeze.  “Oh, it’s far too late to warn me about getting ideas,” he smirked.   
  
A few hours later, they had landed the car where they had originally found it and started trekking back to the compound.  While Tony wasn’t looking forward to going back, he was looking forward to getting the bracelet off and just enjoying being able to look at his husband’s face.  He had also felt exposed out in the world, so going back underground had a certain feeling of safety to it, even with its dreary darkness.

Steve, on the other hand, lingered behind for his last few minutes of sunshine. He raised his face to that soft, coveted warmth, pulling Tony close to him.

“Please don’t take… my sunshine away…” he unconsciously hummed to himself. He stood there, holding his lover close…

Tony wrapped his arms around Steve, hugging him tightly. Steve’s hummed words broke his heart. He now wished they could stay outside, risks be damned. Steve didn’t deserve the dark.   
  
But then his husband pulled away and Tony followed him into the cave, linking their fingers together.   
  
Their footsteps echoed in the gloom as they left the surface world behind for the maze of caves. Steve himself lost his way a time or two, having to double back to check SHIELD’s subtle markers, but eventually, they pulled the rock aside, revealing that heavy blast door and — together — pushing it open. 

The door groaned shut behind them with a sound of finality. The obscuring rock slid back into place, its surrounding holograms flickering to life.

Steve took a deep breath, rubbing his face without thinking. Who knew how long it would be until he breathed the fresh air again…?   
  
Tony pulled Steve close, slipping their bracelets off in the embrace. He rubbed his lover’s back, soothing him.   
  
And then, Tony realized that the darkness had a different quality to it.   
  
“Babe… look,” he breathed. Bruce and his team had completed their task while Tony was away. The fluorescents had been swapped out for incandescent bulbs, giving the place a warm, almost inviting glow. Tony’s fingers absentmindedly found Steve’s once more as he looked at the work, his body starting to relax.   
  
That meant one thing.   
  
“No more darkness,” he gasped. His arc reactor was powering the lights and they wouldn’t have to shut them off at night to conserve energy. They already gained a lot of power back just from freeing up the lighting from the system.   
  
Steve went still, eyes wide and bright…   
  
Slowly, but surely, a tiny smile — filled with more relief than Tony had ever seen in his face — found its way across his lips. Steve beamed, his smile positively radiant in the incandescents as he picked Tony up off the ground and buried his face in his chest. Hugging him tightly, onlookers be damned. “This is the best idea you’ve ever had, Tony…” he murmured happily.   
  
Tony had never seen Steve look more beautiful than he did in that moment. His soul glowed. It took his breath away. But he still managed a bark of a laugh when Steve picked him up off the ground. He hugged his husband back, smiling brightly.   
  
“Really? Better than that thing we tried last night with my leg over your shoul-“ he was cut off by a passionate kiss, and he wasn’t bothered by that at all. He returned the kiss with fervor.   
  
Steve pulled away, grinning up at him. “You hush.”   
  
Tony gave his lover a trademark smirk as he was put down, enjoying every kiss he could get.

Somewhere down the hall, a door closed, and Fury’s black-clad form came striding in their direction. The super soldier sighed, kissing Tony one last time despite the stares, and he stood at ease, holding his husband’s hand as the director approached.  Tony couldn’t help but keep smiling, enjoying the feel of Steve’s fingers entwined with his, the brass rings obvious even in the softer lighting.   
  
Fury sighed. “Did you have the ceremony televised too, or did you decide that a private wedding of 100 guests was more discrete?” Fury quipped, sounding like he was done trying to fight this, even if he didn’t like it.

“We decided it was for the best,” Steve replied evenly.

“Even if I don’t agree, it’s not like I can undo it.  Come on, we need to brief.”   
  
Fury turned, his long black coat billowing briefly, and led them back down the hall. “We’ve decided to move up our time frame,” he informed them as they walked. “Tony, you have four days to prepare your approach and get into character. Our best seamstresses have prepared you a suit identical to the one Stark will be wearing that day. He’ll be heading to London to make the announcement of Mars’s terraforming project; he’ll be away from Wakanda for at least twenty four hours. If all goes well, you’ll be back in your reality this time next week.”   
  
As they followed, Fury’s words put Tony into a cold sweat. Four days. That wasn’t time at all. His hand clenched at Steve’s and he selfishly wanted to refuse. He wanted, no, needed more time with the man he was gripped tightly to. He felt sick in the pit of his stomach at the thought of leaving him so soon. But instead, he said nothing. They passed countless people in the tunnels. No one deserved being down here. They all deserved the sun. Maybe this would get Steve back into the sunshine forever.

Steve knew better than to ask for more time. He knew that they might not get an opportunity like this again for months, if not years… and while he was more than alright with that, more than happy to wait, to live with his new husband for as long as he could… he couldn’t do it to the rest of them. For over a decade, the remnants of SHIELD had lived underground, living like rats. Even with Tony’s new lights, they could still feel the oppressive shield of rock looming over their heads. Some of them had families down here. Kids who had never seen the sun for themselves.

  
It should have been an easier decision.   
  
Steve’s grip on Tony tightened, and together, they went through the briefing.   
  
Most of it was Bruce and Natasha, informing the higher staff about how they would move their resources in a timely fashion once Stark and Ultron were out of the picture. With the information that Tony and Steve had brought back with them, they rearranged their battle plans to include nanite-enhanced soldiers. Blood would be spilled before it was all over, and Steve’s assignment was to be at the front when they moved on the capital. In a matter of days, it would all be over. For better or worse.   
  
“Get some sleep,” Bruce told them all with a little, slightly worried smile. “We’ll need all the rest we can get.”   
  
Tony nodded at Bruce’s suggestion, patting his shoulder. He was still grateful for his work on the lights. Everyone seemed to be working better too.  Neither of them mentioned the run-in with Stark. He hadn’t seemed to recognize them and it would just worry everyone.   
  
As the lights dimmed, he realized it was now night, the lights set to change intensity to give everyone a sense of the time now that they didn’t have the nightly blackout.

Finding his hand, almost like a permanent worry stone he clutched, Tony squeezed Steve’s fingers once more. “Come on. You have to carry me over the threshold,” he teased, arching an eyebrow.

Even with the joke, his voice fell a little flat. Time was slipping by alarmingly fast.

Steve gave him a soft, bittersweet smile and picked him up, carrying him back into the room where they’d first made love.

-

  
A soft blue light filled their bedroom as they lay in bed. Neither of them wore clothes to sleep any more; Steve felt better when he could touch Tony, be with him skin to skin. Even if they didn’t have sex, he loved to just touch him… run his fingertips over Tony’s chest, tracing shapes over the scars where his arc reactor had once been.   
  
“…Do you miss it…?” Steve murmured against the back of his neck, his voice rough with exhaustion even as he refused to sleep. He didn’t want to miss a second that he had left with his husband. “The reactor…?”

Tony could hear the exhaustion in his voice, and though he was tired too, he was used to not sleeping.  He contemplated the question, not answering for a few moments.

“I miss the weight of it,” he finally decided.  “It felt like… an extra layer of protection, between the world and my heart,” he murmured, moving his hand to press Steve’s palm flat against his chest.  “You do that now though,” he added, sighing at the weight of his husband’s hand.   
  
Steve smiled, pressing a kiss into Tony’s shoulder. He could see it now in the soft blue light — not unlike a starry night — the contrast between their skin tones, the deep black that Tony’s hair looked in the dim. The infinite darkness of the past still seemed like reality.  This felt like a warm, happy dream…   
  
“What’s your favorite memory of us?” he murmured softly. “From before. From back in your reality. I know we aren’t together there yet… but I’d love to hear it… Describe it?”   
  
A smile spread on Tony’s lips as he went through the different thoughts in his mind.  Finally, he settled on a simple moment.   
  
“A couple years back, you were adamant about not wanting to celebrate your birthday,” Tony began, an amused tone to his words.  

He turned in Steve’s arms, wanting to watch his face as he told him the story.  The light in the room enhanced Steve’s blue eyes, making them almost glow. “So that night, I whined and complained, you know, being my charming self, until you finally agreed to get in the car.  I promised we weren’t going to a party or out to dinner. And I kept that promise. We didn’t. Instead, I drove until we had crossed the bridge, pulling off into a little park that had families sitting in the grass on a hill above the water, looking out at the Manhattan skyline.  Kids were running around with sparklers, there were a few fireflies blinking here and there… it was just peaceful. The park was dark except for the distant glow from the city and the reflection of it in the water. Hell, you could even see a few stars. So I took out a blanket and claimed a spot for us.  And I had a lunch tote with a couple red, white, and blue cupcakes and a couple travel mugs of lemonade. You were… confused,” Tony chuckled. “But there was a little smile on your face. I could tell that you were enjoying it, even if it was the last thing you expected from me.

“And then, over the water, the fireworks started.  They weren’t loud; they were too far away, but they were beautiful.  You watched them in awe; I couldn’t help but keep watching you rather than the show.  After a few minutes of it, I dug out a candle and stuck it in the cupcake, lighting it and I presented it to you with a ‘happy birthday.’  You looked like you wanted to be peeved but were too touched to complain. Instead, you murmured a thanks and blew out the candle, and we ate our cupcakes while watching the rest of the show.”

Tony sighed as he finished, happiness and nostalgia smoothing his features.  “It was a good night.”

Without hesitation, Steve’s hands went tenderly to his face, holding him as he leaned forward to capture his husband’s lips. He couldn’t help but smile.

“I know it’s gonna sound cheesy,” he murmured. “But I think I remember that…”   
  
He chuckled as he leaned back, his eyes soft and dark with adoration, gazing into Tony’s beautiful brown ones. “Y’know those dreams? Those dreams that just feel so real, it’s hard to believe they aren’t…? I have a theory… that those powerful, important memories can transcend that barrier. I just… the lemonade had a special ingredient in it, didn’t it? I want to say… Clint’s recipe. He sometimes has kids in my dreams… and for the longest time I thought it was because he tells me that he hopes he can have some kids after the war… I admit, I’m no scientist…”

Blinking at his lover, Tony gave a nod.  “Yeah… it is. He puts a little bit of orange juice in it and mint,” he confirmed.  “And he has three kids,” he added, now wondering what few dreams he had might have a connection here.  Most of his dreams were nightmares...

Instead of dwelling on that, he kissed his husband again, just enjoying this moment they had.  He gasped in a bit of air, stealing it from Steve’s lungs as he deepened the kiss. Tony didn’t want to think.  The more he thought, the more he lingered on the incessant ticking of the clock in his mind, of time slipping away.  He wasn’t ready. He would  _ never _ be ready.   
  
Steve beamed against his lips. Despite the despair dragging at his heart, he refused to linger on it.   
  
“We don’t have enough time together to spend it being sad, right?” he murmured. “Tell me if you recognize this memory. I don’t know if it’s your reality or another one.”   
  
Steve ran his tongue over his lips, his tired eyes closing briefly before he could pull himself back to awareness. He didn’t want to fall asleep. “It felt like… after a big battle. We were out at a restaurant with Barton, Romanoff, Bruce, and another man. Long blonde hair, armor and the most ridiculous red cape. You looked haunted… tired. I felt a little self conscious, like I didn’t know many of you very well yet but…”   
  
He glanced up at Tony, blushing softly. “When the big guy left, I took his chair and put my leg next to yours. From the ankle up. It was meant to be supportive but it felt kinda awkward. You didn’t pull away though…”   
  
Nodding in agreement, he gave Steve a small smile.  He focused on every little detail. The way his tongue wet his lips.  How his eyes kept closing and then forcing themselves open, a tired glaze over them.  The feel of his thumb rubbing against his cheek. Tony’s own hands pressed against Steve’s chest, enjoying the feeling of warmth under his palms.   
  
“Thor’s not here?” he mumbled, realizing that may have been another reason why Stark had won out.  They had one less person on their team. “…That happened. It was just after the attack on New York…”   
  
Steve blinked up at Tony slowly. “So it did happen…”   
  
He looked almost incredulous, a lopsided, exhausted smile spreading over his lips. “Who was the big guy then? ‘Thor,’ huh? Kinda pretentious…”   
  
A snort escaped Tony and he smirked.  “Yeah, he kinda is. That was one of the first times I realized I had feelings for you, actually,” Tony murmured. “I had just…  _ died… _ and was scared back to life by Hulk roaring in my face.  And you were above me. You looked so relieved to see me alive.”

Worry shimmered in Steve’s eyes. He unconsciously pulled his husband closer. “I-I’m sure I was but how? How did you… what happened? Did the portal open the same way as it did here…?”

Tony nodded. “Government thought we were losing. Looked like we were for a while too. So they aimed a nuke at New York.”   
  
He closed his eyes momentarily, not liking to relive that day. “We would have all died. Everyone, not just the aliens. Not just our team. But everyone living in New York. All the people we were trying to save.  My armor was low on power. So I used what I had left to push the nuke through the portal. …I went through with it… and my suit died. I saw the explosion. The cold of space crept up, the air in my suit gone…. It was just pure dumb luck that I fell back through before the portal closed. I don’t even remember falling.”   
  
“Tony…” Steve whispered.   
  
His fingers dug into his husband’s back.  He didn’t want to think about that day either, not the day on this side.  In his reality, Stark had read wild readings from the Tesseract, which he had claimed for himself from SHIELD after a custody battle with his father’s research materials. Steve had only just realized what had happened to the man he had wanted to propose to… but he hadn’t known how to leave. They hadn’t slept in the same room in three days. Tony hadn’t spoken to him in two.   
  
He had packed his things, left a note in Tony’s lab, and walked out. He went to SHIELD. He had intended to call in a few days, when Tony had calmed down. When he had calmed down.   
  
Only hours later, the aliens attacked, and fire rained down from the sky. Pure, searing orange fire, like lasers, that vaporized the Chitauri into dust. Steve had leapt into action — an old habit — defending SHIELD’s walls from the strays, as the days went on and more portals opened. The world was under seige.   
  
And because of Tony’s “war for the sake of ending wars,” humanity won. Tony had become Stark. Taking control. It was only months after that Fury called his Avengers candidates into his office to give the fateful order. It was the day of fateful victory.   
  
“I’m sorry, baby…” Steve whispered.   
  
Tony curled closer to Steve, their legs tangled, his hands splayed against his husband’s ribs. He pressed a kiss to the blond’s collarbone, nuzzling against his shoulder until his nose was pressed against his neck, breathing him in.   
  
“I love you so damn much,” Tony muttered emphatically against his skin. Sleep was pulling at him even though he didn’t want it. He wanted to focus on every detail of Steve until he was burned into his soul forever.

“I don’t want it to be just four days…” the super soldier whispered, struggling against his exhaustion.  “I know that even when you go back, you’ll be with me. You’ll always be with me. You promised. But… I’ll miss you when I’m awake… it would be easy to just sleep…”

Tony shifted until he was almost on top of Steve, kissing Steve passionately. “I’ll miss you too…. Even though I’ll be with you, there’ll be parts of you missing. Memories…” Tony gasped against his lips, almost feeling like if he could kiss just a little deeper, they’d stay whole and happy forever. “I’ll be with you because I won’t stop thinking about you,” he whispered the promise, his kisses becoming sweeter but no less needy.   
  
“Send me some good dreams, okay…?”   
  
Sucking in a deep breath and trying not to cry, Tony nodded. “Yeah, baby. I will,” he promised, kissing his husband’s forehead as he shifted to the side, holding Steve as they both were finally claimed by exhaustion.

 

 

  
  
The next morning was there in the blink of an eye. And the next. Where was the time going? It was slipping by faster than Tony felt it had a right to.

 

 

 

The days were spent memorizing corridors and perfecting his impression of Stark. He spooked a few people, even gaining a wary look from Steve at one point, causing him to drop the act instantly. He had it down. He was ready, even if he wasn’t happy about it.

The nights were spent loving each other, alternating between passionate love-making and quiet whispers as they cuddled close. Tony committed each tiny moment to memory, knowing he would replay them over and over for the rest of his life.

Then, finally, the fateful day arrived.


	9. Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heist goes wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emotional smut and angst. Get ready for the final fight, ladies and gents...

In the soft, strawberry-pink lighting that filled their room, Steve held Tony gently against his chest.  His throat was thick, eyes burning with exhaustion and anxiety and held-back tears. He couldn’t go with him this time.  He had faith in Tony, but he didn’t have faith in the plan. There was too much at stake, so much he wasn’t willing to risk…

He hadn’t slept a wink. 

That quiet, wicked voice in the back of his head told him to run.   _ Just run away.  Take him, take what you love, what’s important to you, and run.   _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Find a place where no one will ever find you.  Keep him. Grow old with him.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Never look back. _ _   
_   
But Steve Grant Rogers had never run away.  Not even when he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt such fear in his heart, such burning tears pressing against the inside of his skull.  He could barely breathe, and he knew he wouldn’t run away with Tony. Running would not help Tony. Running would make them feel better, buy them time… but no matter how he dreaded it, ran from it, hid from it underground, still they had come to the same event.  The conflict to end the greatest threat that their world had produced.   
  
No matter how it ended… this conflict would end.   
  
“It’s not about me…” Steve whispered, his voice soft and broken.  Echoing the words he had heard not long ago. “It’s not about you.”   
  
He gave his husband a bittersweet smile.  “It’s about what we leave behind… right? That’s why we have to do this…”   
  
The soothing rumble of Steve’s words woke Tony up, though he didn’t catch what his husband had said. First he was too groggy, and then a second later he was gripped in fear and sorrow. The only reason Tony had fallen asleep at all was that Fury forced him to take a sedative. He couldn’t look haggard and sleep-deprived to pull this off. He had to be alert and on top of his game. This was it. Probably the last time they would get to embrace like this. A tear slid down his cheek and he quickly rubbed it away on the pillow.  “Hey sweetheart...” he greeted, his voice soft and overflowing with love.

Steve forced himself to take a breath, not bothering to hold back the tears, and rolled on top of him.  He could feel his heart beating in his throat and in his chest, so hard that it might break at any moment, and claimed his lips.  Tony’s ring was gone, his finger scrubbed clean, but Steve’s had oxidized against the warmth in his hand and the heat of his husband’s soft brown skin.  Their kiss tasted like tears, ravenous and unrelenting and  _ stubborn _ and so, so sweet that all the world faded away…

He pushed into Tony’s body, resting inside him, as a single whispered word escaped his lips.   _ “Please…” _

He cried with him, gasping and clutching at every bit of him as if he would be torn away at any moment. He would be.

His husband, lover, friend, heart, his everything… pushed inside of him making them one. The gasped plea from Steve’s lips pulled a sob from Tony’s throat and he had to tug Steve close into a searing kiss just to keep himself together. Their hips rolled as one, pleasure fighting against the pain in their hearts.

“Do you remember what I offered…?” Steve breathed, hands moving down Tony’s body, silently worshiping the movement of their hips.  “It was a while ago, but…”

He took Tony’s palm, kissing the rough calluses that he knew by heart… and slowly pulled out of his husband.

“I didn’t want to fall asleep last night…”   
  
The flush in his cheeks bloomed darker, spreading down his chest.  His muscles tensed and his thighs trembled as he pushed himself up; he pushed a knee into the mattress on either side of his husband’s waist and arched his back, reaching down between Tony’s legs and gently taking hold of his shaft.  Looking down into those beautiful, hazy chocolate brown eyes, Steve licked his lips – bracing himself for something very new – and let gravity do the work.   
  
He’d never taken something up that way besides his own fingers.  Last night, the hours had passed, and he couldn’t find it in himself to wake Tony.  So, he had found a way to occupy himself. Now, spreading open around his husband, Steve groaned.  He lowered his jaw, brows furrowed, lips parted breathlessly and sensually as he slowly started to ride him.

Tony looked up at his lover with creased brows, not exactly sure what Steve was getting at. He moaned in protest as Steve pulled out, but as he positioned himself over Tony’s hard cock, Tony’s eyes widened as he remembered. He moaned loudly as he was enveloped in a comforting tightness, the walls stroking and squeezing as Steve started to rock back and forth. His hand instinctively grabbed Steve’s cock and began pumping as they found new pleasure in each other.

“M-Mmm…”

Steve bit his lip, bouncing faster in Tony’s lap.  His erection had wilted just for a moment at the strange new sensation, but at the touch of that warm hand it twitched, red and hard as velvet-wrapped iron against his palm.  “I love you…” he whispered. “I  _ trust _ you.  I  _ trust _ that you’ll be okay.  You  _ come back _ to me, my star…”   
  
He pressed his hand over his husband’s chest.  “That’s an _ order…!” _

His hand stilled a bit, somewhat surprised at Steve’s order. “Yes  _ sir, _ ” he managed to gasp, moaning as the pleasure heightened. He stroked Steve vigorously again.

_ “Ohhhhhh Captain, my captain…” _ he moaned, a giggle bubbling up and following his silly quote. It had a hint of hysteria to it, but he’d take it compared to the gut-wrenching ache.   
  
Intense feelings tugging at his heart and his groin brought him closer to the edge, gasping and keening until his husband’s name was cried from his lips as he came deep inside of his lover. His hips bucked against Steve’s ass, his hand beckoning Steve’s own release.

It surged through him willingly, Steve shuddering as the dam broke and pleasure pulsed through him, leeching the strength from his body as only satisfaction could.  Almost immediately he knew it wouldn’t last, that he would crave more… but Tony had promised. That would have to be enough. That would have to be enough for now…

Steve moaned softly and looked down at Tony, eyes dark and swollen with contentment.  His lack of sleep left him twitchy and tired… but he wouldn’t let it get to him. He only had a few minutes left with his husband.  He would make the most of it.   
  
He chuckled weakly, shaft still twitching in Tony’s gentle grasp.  “I kinda like it…” he admitted, almost teasing through the brimming tears.  “We should switch more often, yeah…?”

“Yeah,” Tony gasped, sniffling a little as he tried not to break down. Steve needed him to be strong. “We should.”

Propping himself up on his elbows, he leaned up to kiss his husband sweetly, cupping the back of his head to keep him close. He wasn’t ready to pull away.

Far too soon, the incandescents were fully brightened, and they knew that they were out of time.

Steve held back a soft, pained noise, but he got up.

There was a certain unreal aspect to getting dressed that morning.  Almost like a waking nightmare. Tony felt numb, and he was sure Steve felt the same.  Numb… and yet like there were thousands of tiny needles pricking his skin, as if his body were trying to wake up after falling asleep from lack of blood to the area.  Maybe his heart wasn’t pumping blood effectively. The beats felt erratic and sometimes sluggish before kicking into high gear any time he thought about what was about to happen. They could barely stop touching each other as they slowly got dressed, pressing gentle kisses to one another’s knuckles and shoulders between articles of clothing.

  
Steve was back in his armor. It was an nostalgic, yet dreaded sensation against his skin; he hadn’t worn it since the last time he had fought against Stark — since he’d lost his arm — and the echoes of that old pain sent goosebumps across his skin, and tingling pangs through his metal arm.   
  
In contrast, Tony only wore his SHIELD jumpsuit. He had a suit waiting for him.   
  
Finally, the morning toll sounded through the speakers.   
  
Steve turned to his husband, took his hands, and kissed him one last time. He refused to be that it would be the last. Tony had promised him that he would come back, and he would… but that didn’t stop Steve from kissing him deeply, hungrily, like it would be their last kiss for a while.   
  
“Break a leg,” Steve murmured softly, a trace of humor in his voice as they breathed together. “Be safe.”

Tony smiled softly, trying for some humor.  “Gotta love a man in uniform,” he murmured, running his hands over the star on Steve’s chest. “You be careful.”   
  
_ “Tony Stark to Prep Room 2.  Tony Stark to Prep Room 2,”  _ an announcement called.  

Tony sighed.  “Time to age a bit,” he murmured, knowing that he would be getting streaks of gray and a few wrinkles put in along with changing into the suit.  If this whole plan didn’t age him a few years, he didn’t know what would.

“Silver fox, huh…” Steve sighed, trying to smile.

_ “Steve Rogers to the loading bay. Steve Rogers to the loading bay.” _   
  
He cupped Tony’s cheek, pressing their foreheads together. He knew he was stalling; he just couldn’t help it. “Time to go punch some robots…” he murmured, feeling almost lightheaded. “I’ll see you on the other side. Good luck, love…”   
  
“You too.  But luck’s got nothing to do with it.  Knock ‘em dead, babe,” Tony replied, snagging just one more quick kiss.  It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. But he would take whatever he could get.   
  
Pulling away and needing all the strength in his body to do so, he walked out, sucking in a deep breath and striding towards Prep Room 2.  He decided to start getting into character as he went. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to continue. All Tony wanted to do was turn around and try to get one last glimpse of his husband.  Or follow him entirely for more kisses, schedule be damned. 

But Stark was all about completing tasks in order to create a better world.  So that’s what he’d do. 

All traces of love and softness left his face and his shoulders squared, his look almost menacing.  He walked like he was two feet taller and already in an Armani suit. People began to skirt around him in the tunnels, avoiding eye contact.  They were afraid of him. Good. That’s what he was going for.   
  
He strode into Prep Room 2 and looked around impatiently as if they should have prepped him the second he walked in.  Keeping this persona was helping. He was cold, his heart hardened. Tony could understand how Stark could betray his lover and friends.  All you had to do was lose your humanity.

\---

 

The journey to Wakanda was different this time. It took most of the day, emerging into the sunlight and taking him to a separate city outside the capital. His briefing packet had told him that this was a typical transit route; he’d go through customs and by the time that Stark got the notification that he was back in Wakanda, Ultron would be shut down. Communications would come to a halt for three hundred and four seconds — just over five minutes for SHIELD to make their assault — an estimation of four hours to dig in their heels before Stark himself arrived.

If he arrived. Apparently, there was something set up under the Mars presentation exhibit. Something that would go boom. But nobody really thought it would work…   
  
The details of the mission spun through Tony’s head as the sun set. It was nearly dark when his private car soared into Wakanda, and the first stars emerging in the deep blue African skies as his driver stepped out onto the private Stark Industries helepad.   
  
He opened Tony’s door and bowed him out, a faint trace of respect and fear in his voice. “Secretary Stark.”   
  
Tony stepped out of the vehicle and took off his sunglasses, giving a nod and what passed for a benign smile but with a somewhat sinister undertone.  A cold look that showed he didn’t quite care, even if he pretended to. It would be enough to make the man wonder if he had done something wrong. That was his goal for every person he saw.  Smile and look like he was the caring secretary he pretended to be, but keep that aura of hollowness that seeped into everyone around him and gave them a note of fear.   
  
He knew his route by heart.  On paper. Now he had to navigate the halls and floors like he had done it a million times before.  No pauses at intersections, no back-tracking. Confident strides. Forward. Forward. Nod at security.  Right. Elevator. Left. Forward. Forward. Left. Right. Secure door that should recognize the nano-tech.  Forward. Right. Another barrier. Left. Forward. Ultron. That was the idea. So he strode confidently forward, mentally marking his route in his mind.  He had to get back out, too.   
  
Finally, he turned the corner, and looked down a smooth, brightly colored hall.   
  
Now, the real test.   
  
The hard part was continuing to walk forward knowing what was in the walls. Practically feeling the sensors scan his body over. He had seen the blueprints, the death traps, the fine laser net that was waiting to reduce to a fine blood mist anyone that wasn’t Tony Stark that walked down this hall.   
  
Ten feet to the door. Five.   
  
Friday’s familiar voice greeted him as the door slid open.  _ “Welcome back, Boss.” _   
  
Tony let out a tiny sigh of relief, taking a moment to glance around the room.   
  
_ “Secretary Stark, your heart rate seems elevated,”  _ Friday commented.  Damn. Did Stark have anything that wasn’t monitored?  Friday was starting to become just about as sinister as HAL.    
  
“I’m fine, Friday,” he replied, sounding a little peeved.  Friday didn’t respond. Good.   
  
Glancing around, Tony felt his breath hitch at the technological marvels at his fingertips.  But he wasn’t there for those. He was there for Ultron.   
  
He sat down at a terminal, recognizing his unique keyboard.  He began to type on the touch surface, the keys responding without a hitch.  It didn’t take long for him to access what he had come here for.

A moment later, he accessed the inner workings of Ultron.

He clapped his hands together, threw them wide, and all at once he was surrounded by Stark’s creation… a galaxy of data, even for him. He recognized the core building blocks, the ones he had started to set into place with Bruce back in his timeline. Still, these were more refined — thousands of updates and layers of firewalls — things that made Ultron quite possibly the most advanced AI in the universe. When with his brain, it might have taken Tony years to sort through all the knowledge and intricacy here… glowing like neurons with a glowing yellow star at the center. The infinity stone downstairs lent itself an  _ unfathomable _ level of processing power. It was how Ultron could function at the level it did.

If he took it out… maybe he could reduce the number of connections enough to isolate key systems and shut them down, cause a cascade failure. Bar the backup systems from coming online. The resulting shock would fry every electronic system within fifty miles of the prime satellite.   
  
It might work. It  _ might. _

Typing in a few commands, he stepped away from the keyboard and jogged down the steps, going to the core.  He had nothing to touch the bare stone with. Looking around, he finally found forceps that should keep him from exploding at touching the damn thing with his skin, or  _ whatever  _ happened to humans that handled it.  Not seeing any visible keypads or locks, Tony ordered Friday to open the casing of the stone.  She did, and there it was, within his grasp.

Tony took the forceps and carefully grasped it, trying not to wince in anticipation…

The metal closed gingerly around a material like diamond.  

He let out a breath he had been holding, pulling the glowing stone free of its casing.  

Some systems went dark as computing power was suddenly lessened exponentially.  Great, now where did he put it? He was sure he wouldn’t be able to destroy it, and there was no chance he would leave it lying around.  So he had to take it. Give it to SHIELD. They could do what they wanted with it. It wasn’t his universe. His other self had done enough damage in this reality anyway.

He raised it to his eyes, gazing into its beautiful yellow depths. It really was gorgeous… a fascinating artifact, glowing and alive in the darkness of the lab…   
  
Then, for a second, it saw something through it.   
  
His mind interpreted it as a reflection. But then Tony realized that it couldn’t be his reflection.   
  
He was looking through the stone.   
  
Stark was standing across the room. Looking straight at him.   
  
Paling instantly, Tony slowly lowered the stone, still grasping it in the forceps.  Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit,  _ shit. _  Stark was  _ not _ supposed to be here.  He wasn’t even supposed to be in the same  _ country _ …!   
  
“I’m from the future.  If I don’t remove this and recalibrate the system, the whole thing goes down and anarchy ensues,” Tony blurted.

Stark made a sound of disgust.

Mirrorlike silver armor boiled out through his pores, closing over his body.  He raised a hand, fired a repulsor into Tony’s chest, and launched himself across the room. Tony hit the wall with a painful metallic  _ smack. _

His armored gauntlet closed around the mind stone.  It all happened in less than a second.

_ Pain  _ was suddenly Tony’s world.  Forget this reality. Forget his own.  _  Pain  _ was his reality.  If it weren’t for the nanotech, he might already be dead.  But it made him stronger, more resilient. And already it was hard at work trying to heal him.  Tony turned onto his stomach, trying to crawl behind something,  _ anything, _ so that he had protection between himself and Stark.  

  
He had promised Steve he would come back.

An armored fist hit the back of his head.  The world went black.

\---

 

Seven hours later, the sun was coming up, and Steve felt cold as SHIELD tried not to panic. Around him, people whispered in anxiety. Ultron hadn’t even fizzled. They were sitting ducks for Ultron if it turned eyes on the capital. Yet no army had assembled, and no one — not even Fury — seemed to know what to do.   
  
A gentle hand touched his shoulder. “Steve?”   
  
Steve immediately stood, looking down at Natasha. “News?”   
  
“There isn’t any,” the crippled assassin murmured. She hesitated, then looked up into his eyes. “Steve… they’re ordering a retreat.”   
  
The man’s blood boiled, and instantly went cold. Steve stared out over her head… then he turned and stalked through the ranks, searching for Fury. He barely heard Natasha calling for him until she bodily latched into his arm. “STEVE!”   
  
“What?” Steve hissed.   
  
Natasha only pulled him to a stop because he was already slowing down, grimacing in a flare-up of her chronic pain as she stared up into wild blue eyes. “Ultron didn’t go down. It’s been nearly twelve hours since Tony went in and there’s been no word.”   
  
“He’s not dead.”   
  
“Steve—“   
  
“You…!”   
  
People were staring now. Steve groaned and grabbed Natasha, pulling her aside, lowering his voice. “You don’t know what this feels like…” he whispered. “He’s out there. I  _ feel _ it. He’s  _ not dead,  _ Romanoff. And I will go to Hell itself and back before I leave him alone in that place with  _ him.” _   
  
“Now is not the time for your dramatics, Steve,” Natasha murmured, her voice low and even. “You have people depending on you.”   
  
“We’re _ all _ in a guillotine, Romanoff. The only reason why we haven’t been shot to hell by Ultron is because Stark doesn’t want to. Why do you think that is?”   
  
“Steve!”   
  
“Why. Do. You. Think. That. Is?”   
  
Natasha groaned, running her fingers through her hair. One look in Steve’s eyes and she knew there was no changing his mind.   
  
_ Fury is going to hate this… _

-

 

Tony woke surrounded by soft white linens.  His head  _ ached.  _  At first, he had no concept of his surroundings.  All he felt was the splitting ache, like a nail being hammered into his head, but then he felt the sheets.  He managed to crack his eyes open, frowning as he found himself in a bed. Where had he been last?

His eyes shot open when he remembered, his stomach turning.  He would have rather woken up tied to a chair.

That seemed safer.   
  
His breathing quickened and he struggled to sit up, despite the pain.  Where was Stark? Was he lurking nearby, waiting for him to wake up?   
  
_ Why didn’t he kill me…? _   
  
A soft ping from the ceiling greeted him. _ “Good morning, mister,”  _ Friday’s friendly tone soothed from the hidden speakers. _ “The real boss has had a tracker put into you so we can tell the difference now. I wouldn’t try to leave the designated living area, but don’t worry, I’ll give you plenty of warning if you get close to the edges. Breakfast is ready for you downstairs!” _

Now he definitely felt sick.  Tony pulled back the covers -- spotting the clean, surgical-looking scar just under his ribs, no doubt where the tracker had been inserted.  Clothes were laid out for him to wear.

Fine.  Whatever.  He’d play along.  What choice did he have?

After donning the new attire, Tony cautiously made his way out of the room, peering around corners.  

 

Outside, the inside of a roaring thunderstorm was a sight to behold.  Lightning flashed and flickered in nets of deadly energy between the clouds.  The loft itself was beautiful and small, modern-style; etched glass and marble and steel was everywhere, shaped into pieces that were just as glamorous as they were practical. The refrigerator was fully stocked, a glorious frosted glass art piece in the middle of the kitchen that somehow contained the cold air in a perfect cylinder.  Flowers sprouted from trellises outside, barely tousled in the wind from the storm, with a covered pool on the balcony outside protected by the faint glimmer of weather shields. A pleasant misting shower pattered against the beautiful glass windows and modern interior. There was breakfast waiting on a table, floor-to-ceiling windows showing the city of Wakanda.  

Tony didn’t touch the food, silently awed by the interior.  “Friday, where is… Secretary Stark?” he asked. If he wanted a chance at getting a straight answer, it was best to use his proper name--

“Please, call me Tony.”   
  
From down the hall, an all-too-familiar voice echoed. A rustle of fabric followed, accompanying a click of porcelain as Stark entered the room, setting a plain black mug of coffee on the glasstop table. He sat, eyes locked on Tony for a second too long to be holding friendliness. Instead, those dark brown eyes — aged by long years and and a sleepless night — glimmered with something like morbid fascination.   
  
He gestured shortly at the chair. “I had the bots make you waffles.”   
  
This whole conversation was already surreal.  Tony was watching a version of himself with extreme caution, knowing the man could and would kill him if he lost interest or was angered.  And yet, knowing himself, he wouldn’t appreciate a cowering version of himself.   
  
Tony took the seat almost lazily, leaning back in it.  “Well if I call you Tony, then what will you refer to me as?  It might get a bit confusing,” he commented. He didn’t touch the waffles, not bothering to show any interest in them.   
  
Stark made a face at that, but he nodded. “Yeah, I guess I can see that. How about uh…”   
  
He pointed at himself. “I’m Tony.”   
  
He pointed at his other self. “You’re  _ Robert. _ Sound good? Good. So.”   
  
Stark took a sip of his coffee and took the waffles out from under Tony’s nose, practically ignoring the stunned look that his younger self was trying to hide behind his eyes. “Are you gonna eat these?” he asked bluntly. “‘Cuz I love these and if you don’t want ‘em I’ll tear them up.”   
  
Tony, or Robert rather, as he was dubbed, did his best not to frown.  So he already knew about that. He pushed the waffles over to Stark. “Figure that out last night or when we met?” he asked, his voice like sandpaper.     
  
“I didn’t know for sure, not until just now, when you told me,” Stark admitted evenly, cutting himself a bite of waffle. “How about we call you Tony and me Stark, huh? Easy enough?”

_ Damn. _ He needed to learn to keep his _ damn mouth shut. _

Stark took a bite, eyes coolly fixed on his breakfast. “This uh, ‘Chris Evans.’ From the DNA analysis on the stuff I found in your ass… I’m pretty sure I can guess who that was.”   
  
At the blatant mention of Steve, Tony’s blood boiled, his face reddening as a dark cloud settled in his eyes. “No. You don’t know him at all,” Tony spat, knowing Stark would understand exactly what he meant by that.   
  
Stark chewed calmly, regarding him with eyes cold as ice.  

Then, he shifted, not even turning his head to give Tony a cursory glance, and tapped against the table.  A holographic screen popped up and he turned, watching Tony’s expression.

There, onscreen, was a nondescript hill.  Soft, golden grass and stark contrast of black rock.   
  
Tony turned his attention to the screen, panic setting in as his probably concussion-addled mind tried to make sense of the scene. Was that the entrance to the SHIELD compound? It could have been anywhere. But it looked damn familiar. Now he wished he had paid a bit more attention to his surroundings than to Steve. Well no, that was a lie.   
  
Tony pursed his lips and glanced at Stark. “Future vacation home spot?” he asked, his voice mild and steady with a hint of confusion.   
  
Stark stared at him flatly, silent for too long.   
  
He sighed, picked up his half-eaten plate, and carried it to the kitchenette.  “Ultron?”   
  
A deep, shuddering, metallic voice — that still haunted Tony’s dreams on some nights – answered.     
  
**_“ Y E A H . ”_ **   
  
“Do me a favor, let’s go dramatic for this one, shall we?” Stark murmured.     
  
The AI chuckled in amusement. **_“ S U R E ~ ”_ **

-

Far, far above their heads, a bay door opened in the Ultron master satellite. A massive, searing laser charged, unfurling from its dormant position… and locked onto the location onscreen.

-

Stark’s eyes shimmered frigidly.  “Live and let die."

-

Ultron’s laser seared down through the atmosphere, absolutely _ atomizing _ the hill onscreen. The explosions ripped through the stratosphere, a rolling wave of heat flattening every blade of grass within fifteen miles.  White light flattened the screen, glowing against Tony’s face… and far in the distance, even to his naked ears, he heard a distant rumble that didn’t coincide with the lightning.  Like a _ beast  _ had been unleashed.   
  
It took close to twenty seconds – twenty little shards of eternity – before the light faded from the screen, and revealed a perfect, smoldering black hole into the earth’s core.   Stark rinsed off his plate, humming the rest of the Guns N’ Roses chorus.   
  
Absolute  _ horror _ bled through Tony’s veins like ice.   
  
All he knew in that moment was that he had nothing left to lose.  

“You son of a BITCH!  THERE WERE KIDS IN THERE!!” Tony roared, getting up violently and striding towards Stark.

“No there weren’t,” Stark stated neutrally. “But hey, now I know for sure SHIELD is in the hills, right?”   
  
The blood ran out of Tony’s face right as he swung his arm back. His mouth popped open and the momentum from his swing made him stumble back as if he had been physically hit by Stark.   
  
“How did I ever become a  _ monster?” _ he gasped, realizing that no matter what he did, he was a step behind. He had no tech. No weapons. And his own intellect couldn’t beat him as he was out of his element and Stark was in his. And Tony still had feelings. They sometimes clouded his reason and judgement, but they kept him  _ human.  _

No, this thing in front of him was no more human than Ultron.

Stark sighed, setting his plate down in the sink. “I’m not a monster, Tony. I’m not gonna kill kids. I’m you. I would never do that.”   
  
He pointed at his other self. “Besides, I’d have to be an idiot to destroy SHIELD now,” he told Tony firmly. “They have resources to make a mind resembling mine, or at least discovering one. I want to know where you come from.”   
  
Tony clenched his jaw, looking much like he rather eat shit than help Stark in that particular venture. “Go to hell.”   
  
Gritting his teeth and walking towards the window to look at the towering smoke, he started nodding to himself, his lips pursed. “I get it now. Make the world a better place for yourself and those you deem worthy. Kill and even torture those who are seen as enemies. Perhaps you’ll keep SHIELD working for you in a contained area where there’s the threat of death or worse if they don’t work. And when you get what you want, you kill them anyway.” 

He bared his teeth as he looked out the window.  “I’m sure Steve is really itching to sock ol’ Hitler on the jaw again.”

Stark shook his head silently, eyes cold and narrowed. “You know why I did it. You  _ know  _ why.”   
  
He stepped forward suddenly, joining him at the window and gesturing sharply outside, at the beautiful cityscape in a storm. “You’ve  _ seen _ why.”   
  
“Necessary evil and all that?  Must be lonely,” Tony replied flatly, his thumb running over his left finger absentmindedly. He missed the ring more than ever now. He missed his husband. 

Damn, he’d break his promise. He wasn’t going to see him again, was he...?

Stark grabbed a fistful of Tony’s shirt and yanked him close.  “Don’t you _ dare  _ think you can stand there and talk about loneliness to me…” he spat, black eyes glittering dangerously.  “I gave everything for this. I gave everything. I gave up the love of my life, my privacy, my ideas, my life, my convenience, I gave up everything in my life so that this world could be safe.  And you want to talk about loneliness?”   
  
He grinned in disbelief, dark humor in his face.  “You’re adorable! Ha! You really are! You’re _ so  _ naive.  Steve _ liked  _ me when I was naive…”   
  
Stark’s expression went black.  He grabbed Tony with both hands and pinned him ruthlessly against the wall.  “That’s why he likes you, you know…” he murmured. “He likes you because you say ‘I love you’ and you agree with his stupid ideas and you follow his orders and you spread your _ fuckin’ legs.. _ . and then, when you decide there’s something more important than either of you and he disagrees?  Oh, he’s going to leave you. Because he doesn’t  _ care _ enough, Tony.  He never did. Is that  _ sinking in yet?” _ _   
_   
Tony was caught in a silent horror as Stark manhandled him.  But he didn’t fight back. He was too stunned. 

The words hit deep and hard, but Tony realized they didn’t stick.  As soon as he said them, the pain dissipated.

It was because Tony knew it was a lie.  

Steve loved him, more than anything.  Nothing would change that. It wasn’t conditional.   
  
And that was when Tony started to  _ laugh. _ _   
_   
A hysterical laugh left his lips as he tilted his head back, resting it against the wall.  His body was limp with the dark humor his mind had grasped onto. Or was it situational irony?  It didn’t matter too much.   
  
“He still loves you, you know!” he managed to say between laughs.  As soon as the words left his lips, he started to laugh harder, hysteria really setting in.     
  
The furious light in Stark’s eyes flared up.   
  
“What did you say…?” he whispered, voice soft and deadly.   
  
Tony was too far gone to be afraid.  Tony was still  _ laughing. _  “He still loves you!” he repeated lightly, like it was the simplest thing in the world.   
  
Stark stared at him, stunned by this man’s laughter. This… person who had tried to destroy what he’d built, who had Steve Rogers’ DNA inside of him, who had dissolved to insanity, was  _ laughing _ at him.   
  
“What’s with the clown routine, then?” he demanded, his voice dark and even.   
  
Tony was still laughing, finding it hard to stop now.  “No routine,” he gasped, trying to actually stop himself so he could say the next part without interruption.  He looked Stark straight in the eyes and grinned. “I may be nothing, about to be gone from this world with only a handful of people even knowing I existed or even caring, but you have  _ nothing. _  When you eventually go, everyone will know, but no one will truly care.  At least, not in the way that counts. Maybe Steve will care. It’s hard to decide which of us will win out when we’re practically the same person.  But I’m his husband, so I think I win there too.”

There was a long, pregnant pause, as the air in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.  Stark’s face had gone completely blank.

Finally, he broke the silence.  “Do you even know who you’re  _ talking _ to, Tony?  I’m...”   
  
Stark cut himself off, the skin around his eyes tightening as he searched the man’s face.  He knew that expression. He  _ did. _

Tony was ready to die.  There was nothing he would say or do to change his mind.

Stark’s face darkened.  “I guess we’ll find out who’s right soon enough…”   
  
His movement were almost tender as he pushed Tony to the floor, his back hitting the hardwood floor with a firm smack.  He wrapped his hands around his throat, looking down at his younger self with an almost bitter expression as he started to bear down on his windpipe.  He could feel his muscles coiling, his heart pounding. He knew he would have nightmares. He knew Steve was coming soon. But the regret weighed heavy on his heart… that they’d have to reunited like this.   
  
“I wasn’t ready to give him up,” Stark confessed quietly, letting the words spill from his lips like foul blood.  “I never wanted him to. But now… if you say he still loves me? Maybe I have a chance, huh? So, thank you.”   
  
He tightened his grip, absently feeling Tony’s nails scrabble against his wrists.  “Really. Thank you…”   
  
Tony stared up at a caricature of himself as his windpipe was crushed beneath strong fingers.  After all, that wasn’t him, right? It was an automaton. He had no heart. He was just wearing his skin… then instinct kicked in and he was clawing at the wrists denying him sweet, sweet air, a sinking pit in his stomach when he realized he had accidentally given Stark  _ hope. _   
  
Steve may still love him, but he would  _ never _ side with this hollow shell of a man.     
  
_ Shellhead.  Shell body. Shell.  Nothing inside. _   
  
Tony’s fingers started to slow.  He had dug deep scratches into Stark’s skin, blood oozing and clotting under his nails.  Already the skin started to heal thanks to the nanotech.   
  
Lips turning white, face purple, Tony’s eyes rolled up.  He no longer saw Stark’s inhuman features. As his vision blurred, he looked at the door upside-down.  He imagined it opened. There was his husband. Maybe Death had taken a friendly form to usher him from this world.  He would certainly go hand-in-hand with his love. 

Tony’s vision darkened, his hands falling limp against those pink-scarred wrists.

_ Steve. _

Steve’s blood ran cold.   
  
Before he could even think, he was moving.  Steve felt his fist curl around Stark’s shoulder, hurling him off of Tony with all the strength he had in his body.  The only reason that SHIELD was still intact was because Stark  _ wanted _ to see him, and his hunch had proven correct.  Not a single weapon had opened fire on him when he entered Stark Industries.  The AI had told him where to find his Tony.   
  
Steve skidded to a stop, eyes like fire as Stark hit the other wall and fell to a crouch.  Dark, stunned eyes met furious blue.   
  
Everything that SHIELD had told him –  _ everything _ that he’d experienced in the past ten years – told him to launch himself at the man while he could.  Take him down. Destroy what was left.   
  
Then, Stark looked at him with hope.   
  
Every wisp of oxygen left Steve’s body.  He went completely still, his world burning down to just the two of them, just like it used to.  He managed to take in a shaky breath, all the blood draining from his face.   
  
“…Hey…” Stark whispered.   
  
The whispered word was drowned out by the loud, wheezing gasp that came from Tony as his body fought for air.  He had fingerprint bruises on his neck and he coughed as he got that first breath of air he sorely needed. His vision slowly came back, lightening and then losing its blur.  His eyes fell on Steve and he used his love as an anchor, something to steady him as he pulled in another breath of air.   
  
It startled Steve out of his stupor.  He forced himself to breathe in through lungs that felt like they’d collapsed and turned his back on Stark.  “Tony…” he whispered, trying to help him sit up. He wrapped his arm around his husband’s shoulders. “You’re okay.  You’re okay… I’m here, my star. I’m here…”   
  
Absolute, raging fury burned behind him, black eyes burning a hole into his back.  Steve felt tears spill over as he held Tony close.   
  
This was it.   
  
“Tony..” Steve whispered.     
  
He tenderly pressed their foreheads together, his voice rough with grief.  “This is  _ my _ choice…”   
  
Tony was still pale as he sucked in a breath, but he knew what Steve meant by the deep hurt in his voice.  “Steve,” he rasped. “No, baby, please,” he begged, tears streaming down his cheeks. His hand raised shakily, pressing against Steve’s face, staining his skin with Stark’s blood.   
  
“You’re a _ joke, _ ” Stark whispered, eyes bright with unshed tears.   
  
“Tony…” Steve breathed.   
  
“Ten _ years _ .”   
  
The super soldier held Tony close, one last time. Then, he swallowed down his anger, his fear, and his agony… and let him go.   
  
He turned to face Stark, standing tall as the raging fury in those dark eyes — the pain and betrayal — reached its breaking point. Tony knew what it felt like; the boiling anger that snapped in his brain, narrowing down to a hyper focus.   
  
Only now, unlike in the Siberian bunker, it wasn’t focused on the Winter Soldier. It was focused on Steve.   
  
Steve met his eyes, inviting his challenge.   



	10. My Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mission is finished.

Stark roared and lunged, his superior silver armor snapping closed around his body. He had crossed the room in an instant and suddenly the window had shattered and Steve was  _ gone.  _ Stark launched himself out the window after him, the wind sheer and freezing cold atmosphere shrieking through the room at their altitude. He caught up to Steve, stopping their acceleration fast enough to break blood vessels, and launched them both back up. Climbing higher and higher. A thousand feet. Two thousand feet.   
  
They roared past the broken window, blasting shattered glass into powder and sending Tony crashing through the open door. Broken glass slashed at exposed skin.   
  
As soon as they dove through the glass, Tony was scrambling to his hands and knees, crawling frantically to the edge to look down in horror.  But they stopped, suddenly blasting upwards, the shockwave hurling him back through the door on the other side of the room. He moaned and arched his back in pain, but he forced himself up again, this time, climbing up the emergency stairs to reach Ultron and the rest of the lab’s defenses.  His hands pulled out glass shards as he climbed, grunting as he did. He only stopped when one shard in particular pulled out something metallic. The tracker.

Stark was going for the helepad.

Tony didn’t stay frozen to marvel at his luck or how fate had smiled at him.  Instead, he continued upward, bursting through the lab door and once again removing the mind stone.  This time, he didn’t marvel at it. He let it drop to the ground and he pulled himself up the stairs, heading for the computer.  Steve was in the fight of his life and his only shot lay in Tony dismantling every bit of Stark’s systems that he could.

-

Steve hit the top of the helepad. He felt something crack in his ankle as it twisted the wrong way, but he refused to stay down. Not this time. He bit the inside of his cheek — cut, bruised, and bleeding — meeting Stark’s eyes again as the superior Iron Man landed before him, a horrifying display in the storm.   
  
“You’re a  _ JOKE!!” _ Stark roared.   
  
Steve thought he had braced himself for the strike. His neck twisted nearly ninety degrees at the force behind Stark’s gauntleted fists, sending him smashing against the outside of the building in the sky. Blood burst from his mouth.  Thunder crashed around them, blowing out his eardrums.   
  
“You left me a NOTE!”   
  
Stark’s fingers dug into his metal arm. The sensors shrieked in the back of Steve’s mind, and then they went dead. The prosthetic shattered against the ground.   
  
“You LEFT ME! YOU MARRIED A _ REPLACEMENT!!” _   
  
Steve saw blood spatter across the perfect finish on his silver armor. He couldn’t even feel it when his lung ruptured.

-

Tony frantically typed, ordering Friday to assist where possible.  Without the tracker, she answered him accordingly, though she was starting to realize that her boss would not make these types of commands.  No matter. Tony simply turned her systems off. With her and Ultron gone, he quickly shut down system after system. And then he remembered.   
  
There was an old suit on display on the tour route.  Maybe, just  _ maybe,  _ it was functional.   
  
Tony picked up a chair and smashed it with all his might against the console, sparks flying as he destroyed the keyboard and controls.  Fix that.   
  
Panting as he ran, Tony practically leapt down the stairs, finding the old suit.  He stepped up into the case and touched a latch in the back. It opened. Systems came alive.  Again, he marveled briefly at this turn of fate and he stepped inside, the armor enclosing around him.

Without Friday, many of the functions were down, but he had built in back-ups. Manual overrides.  With a gesture, the repulsors and jets came alive, sending him up before he turned and flew through the window, heading up to find Steve and Stark.

-

“This… isn’t… g-going to… change what happened…” Steve breathed, blood dripping from his lips.  
  
“I don’t care…” Stark whispered.  “I want you to suffer.”  
  
 _Just like I did._  
  
The storm roared around them, and the repulsors of Stark Industries sputtered.  The enormous enterprise – millions of tons of metal and concrete – began to lose altitude, falling slowly from the dark clouds as systems started to fail.  But Stark’s focus was solely on the man who’d broken his heart; well and truly _shattered_ it.  He opened his palms against Steve’s chest… and ordered his nanites to move into the bloodstream.  The first thing he did was move into the brain, shutting down his pain threshold. Falling unconscious was a self-preservation tactic of the mind, to shield itself from agony that it couldn’t withstand, but now?  He would feel agony that no mortal mind was ever meant to witness.  
  
He had only seen one man die of pain, back when he had tested the technique. But the screams he remembered… that was what he wanted.  It was what he wanted to hear.  Nearly half of Stark’s nanites were gone – billions of them, saturating Steve’s bloodstream – and he lit them up all at once.  
  
The sound that ripped its way free of his chest was positively _inhuman._  
  
Sheer and utter terror gripped at Tony’s heart when he heard the sound.  He knew exactly what it was, and he wept as he flew closer, seeing his love in pain.  But Stark’s back was bare, open to attack.  So caught up in rage, Stark didn’t even sense Tony behind him. Tony pulled a knife from where it was embedded in his boot.  It was a last resort, something he designed for emergencies. The repulsors and other weapons might hurt Steve further.  Tony landed, took two steps forward, and plunged the knife deep into Stark’s back, aiming for his heart.  He grunted with rage and sorrow and pain as he jammed it to the hilt, trying to dig it further in. 

Steve’s unearthly howl stopped.

Tony felt Stark go limp in front of him.

Steve gasped, dazed.  Despite it all, despite everything, he found himself grabbing onto Stark’s body.  “N-No, no… no…!” he gasped.

Tears spilled over at the look of shock in those eyes.  “No…” Steve sobbed. “N-no, c’mon…”   
  
The super soldier gasped for breath and coughed blood, choking on a blinding haze of pain, red sorrow streaming down his face as his legs gave out.  He and the man he once loved slid to the ground together. Stark’s trembling fingers tightened at his back. Holding him tight. He wasn’t ready. 

Even as the storm lightened to a pale mist, he _ wasn’t ready… _

“I-It…”   
  
Stark looked up into Steve’s face, and as the life drained from his eyes, he had four words that he wanted to say.  But the darkness was closing in too fast…   
  
He didn’t have time to tell him.   
  
He didn’t have the time to tell Steve.   
_   
_ _ It wasn’t worth it… _ _   
_   
Stark’s incredible, terrible, beautiful eyes went dark.  His hand fell. The nanites collapsed into black dust in the wind.   
  
Steve’s true, broken,  _ heartwrenching _ sobbing that was somehow worse than his screams, holding his oldest love so tight to his chest that he could feel the bruising.  The nanites in his bloodstream were collecting, slowing his heartbeat… and Tony saw too, in those deep blue eyes, that something Steve needed to live had died with Stark.   
  
As the monument to all of Anthony Edward Stark’s sins descended slowly towards the ground, Steven Grant Roger’s life was measured in moments.   
  
Tony took off the faceplate and dropped it, his tear-stained cheeks no longer getting any wetter.  He didn’t cry. He couldn’t. He felt his heart shatter to pieces and he was utterly incapable of crying or breathing or  _ anything. _ Tony watched the absolute and complete misery of his husband and knew in the broken pieces of his heart that he couldn’t save Steve.  His love was dying before his eyes and he wanted it. Tony could see he wanted it as he cradled Stark to his chest.   
  
Crouching in front of him, Tony removed a gauntlet and his cold fingers caressed Steve’s cheek.  His blood had run cold with grief.   
  
“I… I love you,” Tony whispered, tears finally falling.  Even as he was hurt, he couldn’t be angry with Steve. He understood.  And at the end of it all, he just wanted his dying husband to know that he still loved him.  Always and forever.   
  
Steve wanted to say  _ so much _ to him.  He wanted to thank him, to stay with him, to leave with him, to rest with him.  He wanted to spend so many more nights with him, holding him, sharing memories. He wanted to go on a proper date.  He wanted to get married, in a chapel… with roses and lilies. And he wanted to sleep. He wanted to sleep so  __ badly.  It was dark.  So dark… and cold…   
  
Then, a soft beam of warmth spread across his face… as the sun finally broke through the clouds.     
  
“S-Sunshine… You are my… sunshine…”   
  
Steve couldn’t help but smile through the pain.  “You make me h-happy…” he whispered, laughing – brokenhearted – along with his husband.  “W-When skies… a-are grey…”   
  
He stroked Tony’s cheek, smiling, holding him like he was made of glass.  His shoddy brass wedding ring gleamed in the dappled light, shining between the clouds.  “I never told you… h-how much I love you...”

As Steve gave him the sweetest smile and began to sing brokenly as his lungs shut down, Tony sobbed.  He tried not to shut his eyes. Tears marred his features-streaking his face-and his nose ran, and his eyes were red and his cheeks were blotchy.  All attractiveness Tony had ever possessed was gone, and still, Steve looked up at him as if he were the most beautiful thing he had ever beheld. Tony cried even harder.

Their foreheads touched and Tony grasped at Steve, holding him to him, trying to keep him just a bit longer.   _ Oh please, just a little longer…. _

Steve rested his forehead against Tony’s.  “Please… don’t take…”  _ My sunshine… _

Those dying blue eyes locked on the center of his lover’s chest, as the darkness closed in, and he saw a light.

_ Away… _   
  
His song stopped.  Tony pulled back to watch his husband’s eyes close, never to open again.   
  
A screaming cry tore his throat.   
  
Bathed in sunlight now, he didn’t even feel the settling of the building as the whole floating structure made a final, soft contact with the ground, the back-up systems shutting down.  While people celebrated their continued life because they were once again  _ safe _ , Tony  _ wailed _ and wished he were dead too.

Time stood still for Tony.  

 

That was how Natasha found the three of them, hours later.   
  
With Ultron shut down and the backup systems offline, all SHIELD had to do was take control of Stark Industries, freezing assets and capturing the people with loyalties to the dead secretary of global defense.  Eventually, Fury and a few other SHIELD agents approached. They did their best not to disturb Tony, but it was difficult not to escape his notice as they tried to pull Stark’s body away from Steve’s postmortem grip on his old lover.  With rigor mortis setting in, it was almost impossible.   
  
The hours passed like seconds and suddenly he felt Steve jostle in his arms.  He growled, actually _ growled, _ like a feral dog, at them.  **_“Don’t touch him!”_ ** he hissed, wrapping his arms around Steve more protectively.  He wasn’t ready. He would  _ never _ be ready.

Fury opened his mouth, but Natasha raised a hand, silently requesting a chance to get what they needed.  

Steve’s death weighed heavily on her shoulders, and everyone who had witnessed their argument knew it.  He had known he was defying orders. He had known that Stark was waiting for him. And Natasha  _ knew, _ just as sure as a person could ever be, that he would have done it all again.

Thanks to him, they had won.   
  
“We’re not going to take him…” she whispered softly.  “But… we need Stark. If we don’t show proof soon, we’re going to have another war on our hands.  Please, Tony…”   
  
Her soothing voice managed to reach him and after a moment, he gave a nod, relenting his grip just a bit.  Tony shifted to the side, caressing Steve’s face and not watching the proceedings. Just looking at his husband’s peaceful, pale face.  It was so cold. He didn’t like being cold. Tony placed both his palms against his cheeks in a fruitless attempt to warm him up.

Natasha watched as the agents hauled Stark’s corpse away to be photographed and stored, then looked back down at the bloody, pale body of her friend.

Fury sighed and stepped up, lowering his voice so that only she could hear him.  “We can’t let him hold onto that body until it’s rotting. He deserves a proper burial.”   
  
“I know…” Natasha rasped, wiping her eyes.  “I know he does…”   
  
“Besides, I’m not sure the world will want to remember Steve Rogers as a body being mourned over by Tony Stark.  The truth can’t get out.”   
  
“Sir… I’m going to disagree with you there.”   
  
Fury raised a brow at her.  “Excuse me?”   
  
The crippled assassin crossed her arms, gazing somberly at the heartwrenching display before her.  “I think the truth is exactly what the world needs,” she murmured. “It shows that Stark went down the wrong path.  Steve didn’t fix it, SHIELD didn’t fix it… Tony did. I think – just this once – finding out what it took to put the world in good hands would be best for the public to know…”   
  
Fury considered that, for a long moment…   
  
Then, he sighed and shook his head.  “I must admit, I’ve never heard anything truer, or more heartbreaking, than that.  It might just be enough…”

 

**\---**

**-TWO WEEKS LATER-**

 

The story had been released to the public, photos and all.  Eventually, Tony had to let them bury Steve. The funeral was beautiful, with flags of every old country.  Surviving officers from American shores were flown in to give the twenty-one gun salute, to fold the red, white, and blue flag and give it to Tony.   
  
Stark – just as Tony had predicted – was buried with little ceremony, a week earlier, in the plot of land beside Steve’s.   
  
And now, in the depths of the SHIELD base, where it had all begun a little more than a month ago, Tony watched as they fired up the machine to send him back to his reality.   
  
He stood there somberly, shoulders hunched slightly as he held the folded flag to his chest, his brass ring once again glinting slightly on his left hand.  He didn’t even bother to get the arc reactor back. He also didn’t ask what they would do with the mind stone. This wasn’t his fight anymore. And that’s what it was.  The battle had been fought, but the proverbial war wasn’t over. It would take a lot more to sort the world out. Who knew if it would end up for the better in the end. Tony hoped it would.  For Steve’s sake.   
  
A hand made its way into his field of vision and Tony looked up, seeing it was connected to Fury.  He looked tired. Didn’t they all.   
  
“For what it’s worth… thank you,” Fury told him sincerely, the gratefulness showing in his one eye.   
  
Tony didn’t loosen his grip on the flag, nor did he take Fury’s hand.  “Good luck, Nick,” was all he was able to manage. They would definitely need it.   
  
Stepping forward, Tony waited to be sent back.  He wondered what it would feel like this time, now that he knew what to expect.  Surely the pain wouldn’t be like it was. No, he had been numb for a couple of weeks now.   
  
Maybe, if there was any mercy left among the different realities, it would be like waking up from a bad dream.   
  
He doubted it.

Just like the last time, getting pulled into another reality was akin to opening a bottle of wine, only Tony was the cork.  There was a pain, pressure caving at his chest… a sucking sound as time and space twisted and snapped like an old rubber band and then…

_ Pop. _   
  
Tony stumbled into his work station in Stark Tower, hugging a folded American flag to his chest.  His head spun… but not as bad as when he had arrived in an alien reality. Almost as if he had stepped back into a broken piece of space and time, the instability wove itself back together, sturdy and whole once more.  His coffee was still hot, steaming on the table. Next to the flip phone that he had been contemplating when he had first felt the pain in his chest.

As soon as he arrived back in his reality, he felt rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on the flip-phone.  

He clutched the flag to his chest a little tighter, wavering on fear of being rejected.  But Steve had made him promise to reach out to him in this reality. He wouldn’t let his husband down.

Carefully putting down the flag on the table in front of him, Tony shakily picked up the phone and hit Steve’s preprogrammed number.   
  
The phone rang.   
  
It rang a few times, each time Tony’s heart sinking as he thought that maybe it was too late.  He wasn’t going to answer.   
  
And then there was a faint click and he heard his voice whisper his name.   
  


 

 

_ “Tony…?”  _ Steve whispered.


	11. I'll Be There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony finally uses the phone.

**-London, England-**  
  
Sam took a pot of cold coffee off the counter, poured a bit into a mug, and stuck it in the microwave. The witching hour was approaching in London, close to three o’clock in the morning, and while no one in their right minds would be drinking coffee the three rogues — Natasha, Steve, and he — had practically become nocturnal in their time on the run.   _Steve_ however…  
  
“Hey…” Natasha mumbled, lithely settling into a chair.  
  
Sam pressed a hand to his chest, eyes wide. “Sweet Jesus, Romanoff. Make some noise, will ya?”  
  
“Can I get some of that?”  
  
“Yeah, sure…” Sam sighed, taking the much-too-hot coffee out of the microwave. “Milk’s in the fridge. Steve awake yet?”  
  
Natasha’s expression sombered even more, her once crimson hair closer to blonde now, in the flickering incandescent lights of their third-rate motel. “He was. For about ten minutes yesterday…”  
  
Sam shook his head, brows furrowed in worry. “That guy’s been sleeping almost nonstop ever since we got here. It’s been a _month._ You think he’s sick? Maybe he’s got mono. I had a cousin who got mono one time; he had to drop out of college for a whole semester to recover.”  
  
“I don’t think it’s mono…” the assassin murmured softly, remembering the one time she had walked in when Steve was awake. He had been curled up in the corner, crying his eyes out and trying so desperately to stay quiet. Like he was mourning.  
  
Natasha glanced back at Sam. “He mentioned something about dreams. Something tells me we just need to let this ride itself out.“  
  
Suddenly — from its honorary place on the table — Steve’s burner phone buzzed.  
  
Natasha and Sam both stared at it.  
  
On the second ring, they each looked at the other. Sam gestured cluelessly for her to take it. Natasha rolled her eyes, but she still had to mentally prepare herself before she reached over to pick up the phone that been little more than a reminder of a painful split relationship. If Tony was calling though, it was important.  
  
The assassin almost answered it herself, but the moment she felt the weight of that phone in her hand, she hesitated. She was silent for a moment… then she quickly got up and hurried to Steve’s room.  
  
She only got halfway there when a shadow met her in the hall. She stopped, startled.  
  
It was Steve. His eyes were red and bruised with crying.  
  
Natasha offered him the buzzing phone without a word and made her way back to the kitchen, leaving him some privacy. He took it from her with trembling fingers, opened it… and held it to his ear.  
  
“Tony…?” Steve whispered.

 

  
All at once, the floodgates opened up.  Tony’s face screwed up as he felt his heart break open once again.  He couldn’t hide the sob that Steve would be able to hear.  
  
“H-hey b–buddy,” he sniffled, realizing that this Steve wouldn’t understand why Tony would call him ‘baby.’  
  
He audibly cried, just letting go.  He couldn’t be strong. Not right now.  
  
“F-forgive m-m-me!” he cried, his words bubbling on his lips as he sobbed.  

 

  
Steve’s eyes widened, bruised and itching. Tony was _crying…_  
  
“What’s wrong, Tony?” he murmured thickly, keeping his voice down, trying to keep the tears and worry out of his face. This couldn’t have anything to do with his dreams. This was reality. It was impossible. But something was very wrong, and he’d promised…

 

  
_“Do you need me?”_  
  
Tony nodded emphatically at the question, sniffling as he replied. “Y-yes!”  
  
He sobbed again, shaking his head as if trying to shake himself into stopping. “I’m so sorry. It wasn’t worth it. I-I thought I was doing the right thing,” he explained, gasping for air as his words ran together.  
  
“W-where are you? I can be in my jet in half an hour…” he pleaded, willing to travel to the edges of the earth to find him. He had already traveled through realities, what was a plane ride now?

 

“London,” Steve told him, not even hesitating. He rubbed at his eyes, darting into the bathroom and quickly splashing his face with cold water. “I’ll meet you at London City Airport. Blue scarf, black coat.”  
  
_“Okay….”_  
  
“And Tony…?”  
  
Steve pulled in a deep breath, then hesitated. The silence stretched on, but strangely enough, the tension eased from his shoulders, knowing that Tony was on the line. That he was alive, that he wanted to see him. For the previous month, Steve had been having dreams that felt more real than anything he experienced in his waking hours. And Tony had been in every single one of those dreams. Wearing a dusty blue jumpsuit with the SHIELD insignia. Sharing his bed. Falling in love with him. Everything he’d never dared allow himself to think about, ever since their victory over the Chitauri…  
  
“We need to talk about the Accords eventually,” he murmured. “But it can wait. For now.”

 

A sigh of immense relief escaped his lips over the receiver.  “See you soon,” Tony whispered.

 

He hung up.  He pocketed the flip-phone.  “Friday, have Happy bring my car and have the jet ready to go at the airport in half an hour.”  
  
_“Yes, boss.”_  
  
Tony froze, his shoulders hunching as if he had been hit.  
  
“Friday… don’t call me ‘boss’ ever again.”  
  
_“Uh, sure.  What would you like me to call you?”_  
  
The billionaire thought about it for a moment.  
  
“Tony.  Tony’s fine.”

\---

 

A couple hours later, Tony stood on shaky legs as the jet taxied at the London City Airport.  He hadn’t even bothered to change out of SHIELD jumpsuit that he had arrived back to this reality in.  He still wore the ring and he brought the flag, thinking it might be useful for an explanation but really just not ready to part with it yet.  He looked haggard, a bit skinnier than he had been when he had left. At least his eyes weren’t red from crying anymore.  
  
The crew finally opened the door and Tony practically tripped down the stairs to get his feet on the tarmac.  His eyes scanned in every direction, looking for Steve.  
  
His gaze actually passed over a man in a dark coat… then he saw the blue scarf, and his eyes darted back.  
  
Steve was there — standing on the slick black asphalt — staring out at his plane in disbelief. He was disheveled and unshaven, a baseball cap pulled over his dirty blonde hair, dark circles under those stunned blue eyes. He looked exhausted and pale… but his skin had been kissed by the sun. Soft lips parted slightly in shock…  
  
Steve’s legs moved without his permission. He found himself walking towards the plane.  
  
Tony took a staggering step, then another, and found himself moving towards Steve as if he were the last oasis in the desert.  As he finally got within a couple feet of him, his eyes welled up. Oh _god._  He couldn’t hold it together.  He had seen the love of his life buried, he died in his arms, and here he was again.  Whole. Tony’s eyes darted to Steve’s left hand and saw that it was flesh and blood, still intact.  His arm was fine. Of course it was. But still….  
  
Watery brown eyes met slightly stunned blue.  “Steve…” Tony croaked, not knowing what else to say.  
  
“Hey, Tony…” Steve whispered. “You…”  
  
His eyes flickered over the brunet’s haggard appearance. So terribly similar to the man from his dreams. And the flag, why the flag?  
  
He swallowed… not knowing whether to kiss him or apologize…  
  
Finally, he sighed and wrapped an arm around Tony’s shoulders, pulling him into a careful embrace. “There’s a hotel a few minutes down the highway,” he murmured softly in his ear. “We can talk there…”  
  
A sigh left Tony’s lips as Steve carefully embraced him, his chest aching so brutally bittersweet.  

A tear slid down his cheek and he nodded at Steve’s suggestion.  “Yeah…. Let’s go.”

Steve lead him wordlessly off the tarmac.  
  
Twenty minutes passed as they hailed a taxi, slipping into one of thousands of tiny yellow cars and starting the long crawl through London traffic. It was a cool, rainy afternoon, the water soaking into Tony’s jumpsuit. Steve tried not to stare, but his efforts were in vain. Tony had tried not to stare.  He really did. But he couldn’t help glancing at Steve every few moments.

Tension built as they sat silently in the car…

Finally, Steve shifted, pulling off his coat. “Here,” he murmured.  
  
He offered the too-large, warm coat to Tony. “If you want it…”  
  
A small smile found Tony’s lips.  He nodded. “Thanks,” he murmured, laying the flag in his lap so he could shrug the coat on.  It smelled like him.  As his left arm pushed through the sleeve, the brass ring glinted, catching Steve’s eye.  With the coat on, Tony held onto the flag once more.

“Tony, what’s going on?” Steve demanded, wild-eyed. “I-I….”

He looked down at the flag. “What is that? What’re you wearing? Why…”  
  
The super soldier bit his lip to stop the torrent of words from spilling out. He looked down at his palms, struggling not to scratch at his right arm. The missing arm that wasn’t missing.  
  
“… You didn’t need to see me because you wanted to talk about Siberia. Did you.”

Looking up into Steve’s confused blue eyes, Tony shook his head.  “I am sorry… about that,” he murmured.

Thankfully, the cab pulled up to the hotel.  Tony really didn’t want to have this conversation with a third person potentially listening in.  He got out of the car, taking out his wallet to pay the fare.  
  
“I-It’s okay, I have it…”  Steve took out a few bills and gave them to the driver. “Keep the change,” he mumbled, then instinctively went to take Tony’s hand and stopped, swearing internally. He stuffed his hand back into his pockets and led Tony to the door, holding it open for him and avoiding his eyes. He was more than confused. A piece of him wondered if he was going crazy.  
  
Tony saw Steve’s hand reach out.  His breath hitched and he hoped, ohhh how he hoped.  Steve held the door open instead and Tony walked through it.  
  
Deja vu hit him hard and he was suddenly standing at the front desk in Wakanda, schmoozing over the concierge.  And then the green atrium faded and he was standing in a normal London hotel. Tony gasped in a breath and turned away from the front desk, not wanting anyone to see the look on his face.  
  
Steve saw it though. He glanced down at the flag… then turned back to the front desk. “Do you have any rooms for the evening?”  
  
The concierge checked the system, fingers tapping along the keys. “We do, but it’s a single queen bed.”  
  
“That’s fine.” _I’ll take the couch if I need to._  
  
He paid for their room, took the old brass key, and — after a moment of hesitation — laid a gentle hand on Tony’s back, ignoring the soft, subtle sparks at the contact as he steered them into the elevator. The journey upstairs felt like an eternity, the air charged between them…  
  
Finally, Steve let them into their room — an old-fashioned affair with dark red draperies and dust on the clock — and closed the door behind them.  Tony let Steve lead him, grateful for his guiding hand. He was in shock. He just needed a moment to breathe.  
  
Somehow, the tension got worse.  
  
“Do you need to use the bathroom?” Steve murmured, suddenly very aware that he hadn’t showered in a while.  
  
Tony shook his head, sitting gingerly on the end of the bed, his eyes unfocused on a point on the floor.  He sucked in a deep breath, rubbing his fingers against the material of the flag. It soothed him a little.  
  
“Okay then. I’ll just…”  
  
Steve chewed on his lip, and finally went into the bathroom.  
  
The sound of the shower mixed with the gentle, soothing sound of the rain on the roof. A warmth and quiet filled the hotel room, offsetting the electric charge in the air. It felt like the room itself knew the importance of the conversation they kept putting off. But it was close now, time ticking down…  
  
The spray from the water met Tony’s ears.   _A desperate punch to tile.  Crying as he was held. A proposal.  Wedding vows…._  
  
Tony squeezed his eyes shut and clutched the flag so tightly to his chest that it hurt.

The shower cut off.

He looked up, blinking as he returned to this reality.  A few moments later, Steve emerged in his undershirt and sweatpants, still warm and steaming from the hot water. He glanced at Tony, then tossed the towel into the hamper and stood there.  It couldn’t be more obvious that the soldier didn’t quite know what to say. Where to even begin.  
  
Steve returned, looking unsure of himself.  Poor guy. He was in the dark and Tony was just freaking out on him...  
  
Taking in a deep breath, the brunet managed to speak.  
  
“What I’m going to tell you is going to sound far-fetched and crazy,” Tony croaked, fingers fidgeting against the flag once more.  “I was… gone. Maybe for only a few minutes. A few seconds. I don’t know. But… I spent weeks in an… alternate reality.”  
  
There was a moment of silence…  
  
Then, Steve came forward and sat on the bed, head bowed and a somber look in his tired blue eyes.  “I believe you,” he murmured. “That sounds pretty crazy too. Doesn’t it.”  
  
Tony let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.  His eyes glanced sideways at Steve. “We’ve seen lots of crazy,” he reminded, shrugging slightly.  
  
Finally holding the flag in both hands, he looked at it for another moment before placing it on the bed in the space between them.  “That was… for the other you,” he explained, his throat clenching and making it hard for him to speak.  
  
“He’s gone, isn’t he?” Steve murmured.  
  
Tony nodded, his eyes watery with unshed tears.  How many times had he cried? How did he still have tears left to shed?  
  
Steve swallowed thickly, his tired eyes burning as he bowed his head, running his hands through his hair, his suspicions confirmed.  
  
They sat on the bed, the flag folded and weathered between them, until Steve found the strength to take in a breath. He rested his elbows on his knees, biceps rippling with tension.  
  
“The Righteous Brothers are going to be different to listen to now,” he commented, trying to lighten the mood.  
  
A gasp escaped from Tony’s lips and he turned, just staring at the man beside him.  “You… you _know?”_ he breathed, his voice hitching.

“Unchained Melody, yeah…” Steve murmured, interlacing his fingers and looking down at the carpet. “You taught me to dance. Or, you tried to. I…”  A tiny smile flickered on his lips, but still he looked down, long lashes brushing his cheekbones. “I stepped on your feet. I proposed to you and… you made that.”  
  
He glanced down at the brass ring on Tony’s hand. “The towel ring. You just whipped everything out, used a candle. Was watching you the whole time. You…”

_You have a nice singing voice…_

Steve trailed off. “Those dreams… they felt more real than when I was awake,” he admitted. “It was easy to sleep…”  
  
Tony closed his eyes and tears slipped down his cheeks as he sniffled softly.  “Its match is… buried…” he murmured, running his fingers along the cool brass. “But... he asked me to do something for him.  Did you see that in your dreams too?”

The air was charged with electricity, the scent of the shower steam heavy in Steve’s senses.

 

 _“Anthony Edward Stark.”_ _  
_   
_He gazed into Tony’s eyes.  “Everything I am, I give to you,” he whispered.  “I don’t need a cathedral. I don’t need expensive clothes or ceremony.  I don’t need a home, or children, or a document to sign. You have always been my home.  And no matter where we may be, or what eyes might watch us, I would have you beyond the flesh.  Beyond whatever waits for us. Whatever stardust and chemicals make us up, whether we are god-made or some incredible accident, whatever wars that the universe will wage… I am yours.  I ask you to be mine…”_

  
“He meant it.  And I…”  
  
Steve couldn’t look at Tony.  “I want it,” he admitted, feeling like the weight of the world had finally eased off his shoulders.  “But… if it weren’t for him, would we still be here? Would you even want me like that. After everything.  I hurt you, Tony.”  
  
He still remembered the look in those angry, scared, overfull brown eyes as he’d pulled the shield from Tony’s armor, the blood and bruises on his face, and the shout that echoed through the bunker.

  
  
_“That shield doesn’t belong to you.  You don’t deserve it! …My father made that shield!”_ _  
_ _  
_ _The sound when he had let the familiar weight go, and the shield struck the floor with a vibrating, final_ **_clang_** _._

 **  
**  
“I never wanted to.  You matter to me, you’re so important to me, you’ve meant so much to me for a long time.  More than is really appropriate for teammates. You gave me a _home_ … but… Bucky’s my best friend, Tony, he always has been.  I couldn’t choose.  It all just unraveled and I wish we’d found out about Zemo sooner a-and I wish I’d told you about your parents sooner!  If I had, maybe things would be different, b-but we’ll never know now and I’m sorry and I don’t know if I can fix it, Tony…”  
  
Steve looked down, his chest tight with grief.  “I… I don’t know if I can fix us.”  
  
Tony tensed.  He couldn’t sit idly by anymore.  

When the last desperate word fell from Steve’s lips, Tony caught it up and carried it between them in a searing and loving kiss.   _Us.  Us, us, us_ ….  He wanted that word tattooed on their lips by the time he was done kissing him.

“We’re both broken,” Tony gasped against Steve’s mouth, his hands cradling his face.  “Let’s heal each other,” he begged, his eyes searching Steve’s, hoping, _praying_ for him to say yes.  
  
“Are you sure…?” Steve whispered, searching his eyes.  
  
His dark, lonely blue eyes trained on Tony’s chapped, imperfect, beautiful lips. Breathless and craving another kiss. Craving more. He wanted to feel him, touch him, _outside_ of his dreams.

All that was holding him back was one little word.

Tony nodded, their noses brushing against each other’s.  “Yes. _Yes_ I’m sure,” Tony breathed, his hand sliding behind Steve’s neck, kissing him again.  Tears slid down his cheeks but he was so relieved, so happy. He had felt such sorrow and now he felt joy again.  He didn’t care what it took to make this relationship work. He would give everything. He would give all that he was.  
  
“Marry me again?” Steve breathed between kisses. “Maybe not right now, but… later?”

A gasped laugh of elation left his lips and he nodded, smiling brightly.  “I can make us rings again. One that won’t leave our fingers green.” Maybe he hadn’t experienced it firsthand, but Steve had dreamt it.  He had seen it all. Steve was Steve, and it didn’t matter the reality, just as Tony had been Tony, regardless of the different choices made.

Tony’s fingers dug into Steve’s blond locks, pulling him down onto the bed, the flag pressed down onto the sheets by their bodies.  He couldn’t think of a more fitting place for that flag to be– tragedy covered by their undying love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much sweetness. So much. (Just one more chapter to go, and that's the epilogue!!)


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony gets a tattoo.

**-NINE YEARS LATER-**

**-The Rogers-Stark Farm, Upstate New York-**  
  
Warm spring air blew softly through the open windows of a beautiful country house, smelling of freshly harvested grains. The laughter of two little girls reached Tony’s ears from outside, shrieking in delight as his husband scooped them up.  
  
The year was 2022 again. The same year that he had been pulled into, on the day that changed everything. On the same date that Steven Rogers died on the helepad at Stark Industries, the flag that had been presented at his funeral was tucked away in a memorial box, along with a single brass ring. In its place now, on Tony’s finger, was a beautiful custom ring. Its match was outside, on the rough, hardy hand of his retired super soldier.  
  
In the mirror, Tony was greyer. He looked familiar, in an unpleasant way… but at the same time, he was different too. His eyes were happier. His smile lines carved deeper.  
  
Toolbox in hand, he had planned on fixing the tractor.  He told Steve he could just buy a new one, but Steve seemed to like the one they had.  So Tony kept fixing it. To be honest, he liked it too. He liked fixing it. They both liked fixing things.  
  
As the peals of laughter reached his ears, Tony glanced out the side door, watching his husband play with their daughters.  Those lines got even deeper as he smiled contentedly, setting the toolbox down. He ran his left hand over his right forearm.  The one that his other Steve had lost. A tattoo in script similar to what could be found on the Constitution was emblazoned there:

  
**_Those who would give up essential Liberty, to purchase a little temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety._ **

  
Tony liked Ben Franklin.  He was a fellow inventor, after all.  Smart man.   
  
The quote was a fitting tribute to what he had experienced so many years ago.  A tribute to his husband. A reminder.   
  
Toolbox forgotten, Tony stepped out into the fresh air and sunlight, his smile brightening as he joined the ones he loved most.  A squeal of excitement met him, his two beautiful little daughters racing across the field to be met with open arms.

 

 

~THE END~


End file.
